


His Tender Mercies

by enigmaticblue



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-03
Updated: 2010-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 56,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response to Helga Von Nutwimple's Vamp-in-the-Box Challenge. Wolfram & Hart make a slight error, and bring Drusilla back instead of Darla at the end of Ats S1. Drusilla heads straight to Sunnydale and Spike, and in the process throws a monkey wrench into Buffy's thinking. Oh, and Riley left after "Restless."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Flame

**Prologue**

In the two hundred years of Drusilla’s existence, there were exactly two people who hadn’t underestimated her: Angelus and Spike. Angelus because he’d created her, and Spike because she had created him. So it was that when Wolfram &amp; Hart accidentally brought her back with their spell, rather than Darla as they had intended, it didn’t take her very long to escape.

Just because she was crazy didn’t mean she wasn’t cunning.

It was, in fact, Drusilla’s very insanity that buffered her against the disorientation of the spell. She was used to things seeming a bit strange, and so suddenly returning as human—after she’d been dusted by her current lover—didn’t phase her a bit. She overheard the lawyers talking about their mistake and how they were going to fix it.

They thought they could use her to get to Angel.

Drusilla wasn’t sure what she thought about that, but somewhere in the vague recesses of her scattered mind, she knew that she wasn’t ready to see Angelus again. Her soul remembered his cruelties; without the demon present, she had no real appreciation of pain. Not like she’d had before.

There was only one person that Drusilla wanted to see. Spike had taken care of her last time she was ill. He had performed the ceremony that brought her back to full strength again.

He loved her, even if the Slayer had been floating around his head.

Drusilla listened to the stars; their voices were still clear even when the walls closed in around her. She waited until they told her the time to escape was ripe; it helped that no one thought she was capable of thinking for herself.

She slipped out of the apartment they had secured for her. The guard had long since stopped worrying about the crazy—though meek—woman they had him watching. He was asleep, soundly so. The stars had told her that as well.

Drusilla sang to herself as she waited to find the right person to hitch a ride to Sunnydale with. She was certain the pixies would point out the perfect person. “Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch.”

She swished the skirt of the pretty dress that lawyer had found for her. He had been kind, had spoken softly, but Drusilla had seen his heart. Black as pitch it was. He couldn’t be trusted—nor could anyone else at the law firm. They had their own plans that Drusilla wanted no part of.

She had her own goals in mind.**Chapter 1: Old Flame**

Spike threw the empty bottle against the side of his crypt. Not even the resounding crash and tinkle of glass made him feel better. He half-wished the Slayer had staked him after she found out about his deal with Adam.

He was half-ready to stake himself.

Looking around to find something else to throw was futile. Spike didn’t have much in his crypt, and the television had been too great a prize to break it.

He was bored out of his skull. There were only so many demons a guy could kill before that got dull—and dangerous. It was getting downright dangerous to be him, in fact. The only reason he hadn’t been set upon by an angry mob—especially after his helping the Slayer to get out of the Initiative—was that most of the demons who would have made up said angry mob had been killed.

And that just burned, that he owed his continued existence to the Slayer of all people.

Spike let out a roar of anger as he realized that there was nothing else he could do any damage to, and he really wanted to do some damage. “Just wait till I get this bloody chip out of my head,” he muttered. “’m goin’ to rip her throat out. I’ll bathe in the Slayer’s blood. I’ll kill all her little friends too.” He stopped, reconsidering. “Maybe I’ll turn Red. She’d be an interestin’ vamp.”

A sound at the door caught his attention, and Spike stilled, going into predator mode. He didn’t sense a demon, but there was no point in taking stupid chances. He grabbed his crossbow from the top of the sarcophagus and waited. After a few minutes, when the door was still not opening, Spike growled, stalking over to throw it open.

He’d expected one of the Slayer’s little friends, dithering for whatever reason. One or the other of them still came once in a while when they needed his help. He’d told the last one—Red, in fact—not to show up again unless she had a carton of fags in hand.

What he got instead was Drusilla. A very human Drusilla. You could have knocked him over with a feather, so to speak. “Spike?”

It was the vulnerability in her tone that caught at him. Spike, no matter what his dark princess had accused him of, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how badly she had betrayed him—he still loved her. She was his Sire, his ripe wicked plum, his black goddess.

And she was human.

By the time Spike managed to pick his jaw up off the floor of the crypt, Drusilla was looking ready to flee. “Dru? Luv? You alright?”

Spike was trying to think. She was human, yes, but that could be fixed quite easily, with or without the chip. He could find another vampire to turn her if necessary, or maybe manage to do the job himself. It would take a bit of creativity on his part, but he’d always been a quick study. There was always more than one way to skin a cat. (He knew, as he’d tried most of them.)

“Oh, my Spike, look what they’ve made of me.” Dru was suddenly weeping in his arms, and Spike gathered her up helplessly. She’d cried like this before, mostly when one of the visions had badly disturbed her.

“Come on inside, Dru,” he murmured, tugging her gently through the door. If he could calm her down, he could turn her tonight.

A new thought struck him. In turning Dru, Spike would become her Sire. He would replace Angelus in her affections. Never again would he have to worry about her going after another bloke. She would love him as much as he loved her.

He started to ask her about it, to offer the option of being turned again, but something kept him still. After all, she’d just arrived, and she was upset. It could wait until Dru had a bit of sleep and calmed down some. Spike would have to find her something to eat as well. And something else to wear. And some place to sleep.

Taking care of a human Drusilla was already getting complicated. What did he know about taking care of humans, anyway?

“You’ll help me, won’t you, Spike?” Drusilla asked him once she’d calmed down. “They wanted to use me to get to Angel. Knew you wouldn’t let them hurt me.”

Spike blinked, seeing a flicker of sanity in her eyes. No, more than that. Drusilla was actually lucid. Completely lucid. “Who was after Angel, pet?”

“The lawyers,” she replied. Spike watched as the madness took over again. “They wanted to bring grandmum back, but got me instead.” She giggled. “Little men were angry at that. So very angry. Thought they would bring darkness back. Ruined it all, they have.”

Spike didn’t bother asking her what it was that had been ruined. He knew better by now than to ask direct questions. There was no getting any information out of her when she was like this. “Don’t have anywhere for you to sleep, luv, except for the chair. I’ll see ‘bout getting a proper bed tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’m here,” Drusilla murmured, and again Spike could see the flash of sanity in her eyes. “It seems I’ve been such a long time dreaming. Such a lot of blood.” She began to weep again. “There’s blood on my pretty dress, Spike.”

There was no blood to be seen anywhere, but Spike had a feeling that wasn’t what she was talking about. She was human now, with a human soul. From what he knew, Drusilla hadn’t been crazy before Angelus got to her. There was a chance she could go back to her old self, that she could be sane again.

If he turned her now, there was no chance of that at all. She would be insane for all eternity, and while he’d loved her craziness, there was a part of him that ached to see what Dru could be like whole.

She could be a true partner for him then.

More than that, if he turned her now, Spike would be no better than Angelus, dooming her to madness forever. A madness that left her vulnerable and childlike much of the time, as cunning and strong as she might be.

It would be better if he could heal her, bring her back to her old self, sane and whole. He would turn her then, and she would love him. Love him because he was her Sire and because he had done what no one else could do.

Spike would be Drusilla’s everything as she had been his.

~~~~~

Joyce was feeling just a little lonely. Buffy might have been living at home for the summer, but that didn’t mean that she ever got to see her daughter. Tonight, for example, Buffy was having an all-night movie-fest with her friends. They’d hardly gotten to spend any time together at all.

It was rather pathetic when “fun” equalled rearranging the kitchen cabinets.

The knock at the front door came as a welcome distraction; the couple at the front door was something else altogether.

Now Joyce had listened to all of Buffy’s warnings about Spike. He was dangerous; he couldn’t be trusted; don’t think for a second that he wouldn’t kill her the minute he had the chance.

Joyce had listened, and then had calmly disregarded most of what Buffy had told her. Buffy might be the Slayer, but Joyce trusted her instincts. That and the fact that Spike had had a number of chances to kill her and hadn’t.

It was the woman at his side that worried her, since she matched the descriptions of Drusilla that Joyce had heard Buffy and the others give. “I need your help, Joyce,” Spike said without preamble.

Joyce looked at the woman doubtfully. She was humming something to herself and appeared to be unaware of her surroundings. “Spike, I don’t know—”

“She won’t hurt you. Not now,” Spike said cryptically. “Please.”

As he very rarely used that word, as Joyce well knew, she considered. Right up until Drusilla waltzed into the house, now singing out loud. “Run and catch, run and catch. The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch.” She looked directly at Joyce, and the light in her eyes was uncanny. “I smell sickness.”

Joyce blinked and looked back at Spike, who wore a sheepish expression. “Sorry, ducks. Dru’s been in an’ out of things all day. It’s just—she’s hungry, you see, an’ she’s gonna need some help.”

It was then that Joyce realized what it meant that Drusilla had been able to walk through her front door without an invitation. “I’ll fix something. This is Drusilla, isn’t it?”

Spike nodded, looking at Drusilla with ill-disguised longing in his eyes. “’m not exactly sure what happened to her. She hasn’t been there enough for me to get the full story, but you were the only one I could think of that might help me with her.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “She hasn’t slept hardly at all. Keeps wakin’ up screamin’ with nightmares.”

Joyce’s eyes met his and for a moment they connected—understood each other at a level only hinted at up to that point. They both understood the meaning of sacrificial love: the mother of the Slayer and a vampire who loved with his whole being. Odd perhaps, but that was life.

“I’ll do what I can for her, Spike,” Joyce promised.


	2. Love Is Pain

Joyce quickly fixed Drusilla a sandwich, and the ex-vampiress devoured it rapidly. The food seemed to bring some lucidity back. “Oh, I’m sorry. That was terribly rude, wasn’t it?”

“That’s fine,” Joyce replied kindly. She was rapidly coming to feel pity for this woman. “You must have been very hungry.”

“Spike wasn’t sure what I would like,” Drusilla whispered conspiratorially. The vampire in question was on the back porch having a smoke. “And he can’t cook.”

Joyce smiled. “Well, I’m glad you liked your meal. Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

Alarm came into Drusilla’s eyes, and sanity was replaced by madness. “I’m staying with my Spike,” she said, sounding as though she expected Joyce to object. “He takes care of me.”

“I’m sure he does,” Joyce replied soothingly. “Would you like me to get him for you?”

Drusilla’s eyes darted around, wild. “Daddy will be coming. He’ll be terribly angry with me. I’ve been a very bad girl.” Tears started to flow down pale cheeks. “Very, very bad.” She held out her hands. “Can’t you see the blood?”

“There’s no blood there, Drusilla.” Joyce kept her tone as gentle as possible.

Drusilla shook her head. “There is. I’m covered in it. I’ll never be clean.” Her voice kept rising, and Joyce wanted to get Spike, but she didn’t want to risk leaving the other woman alone, even for a moment.

And that was the situation that Buffy walked into.

~~~~~

Movie night had turned out to be a major bust. It might not have been so bad except for the fact that Buffy felt like a fifth wheel. Maybe if Giles had made it things would have been different, but it was Xander and Anya, Willow and Tara. And Buffy.

She was the fifth wheel again now that Riley had left. In the long run, it was probably for the best, but it had still hurt. Between the offer to take up his old role in the Army—without the shady tactics—and Buffy, Riley had chosen the Army.

The Slayer couldn’t really blame him. If Riley had stayed in Sunnydale, the only thing keeping him there would have been her. He needed a stronger purpose than that, and he was intelligent enough to know it. Buffy hadn’t been terribly surprised. After Xander had revealed how exactly Angel had lost his soul, a great deal of tension had marred their relationship.

Riley had a black and white view of the world. Buffy knew better.

Besides, she had loved Angel, with the kind of blinding passion that was only possible at sixteen. Possible only because it was then that the whole world revolved around a person. And it was possible to completely disregard reality.

So Buffy knew that Riley was wrong about some things at least. Although she and Angel couldn’t be together, she didn’t regret loving him. Not really. Not most days.

She sighed. She had excused herself after one movie, since both couples looked ready to get amorous, only holding back because she was there. Maybe her mom would want some company.

Buffy heard the voice as soon as she walked through the front door. There was only one person she knew who had that accent—the voice was forever burned on Buffy’s brain, and now Drusilla was in the house with her mom.

She dashed into the kitchen, freezing as she took in the sight. Drusilla stood in the middle of the kitchen, wailing, while her mother tried futilely to calm her down. The strange thing was that Buffy’s vamp sense wasn’t even tingling, and Drusilla hadn’t eaten her mother.

“Mom! What—”

Joyce turned to look at her daughter. “Oh, Buffy, would you get Spike? He’s—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence, since Spike was suddenly there, surrounded by the scent of cigarette smoke, pulling Drusilla into his arms. “’s okay, pet, I’m here. ‘m not goin’ anywhere. You’re fine. ‘s gonna be just fine.”

The Slayer was struggling to take in the scene. Spike and Drusilla were standing in her kitchen, no one had been hurt, and Spike was being—sweet.

If you could disregard the fact that Drusilla was an insane vampire who had killed a Slayer.

“What is Drusilla doing in my kitchen, Spike?” Buffy asked in a deadly tone. She was strongly considering dusting him for that. Tricking her mother into allowing Drusilla into her home was definitely a stakeable offense.

“She needed help,” Spike replied defensively. “Knew Joyce would be up for it.”

Buffy took a step forward. “Well, you can just take your vamp-ho and get out of here. She’s not welcome in this house, and neither are you, for that matter.”

“Too bad you forgot to revoke my invitation, then, isn’t it, pet?”

“Don’t call me ‘pet!’”

“Buffy, she’s human.” Joyce interrupted the snarking, mostly because she knew they could probably go on all night. “I didn’t invite her into the house, she just walked in.”

Buffy frowned, wanting to argue, ask if her mom had felt for a pulse, but the expression on Spike’s face suggested that Joyce was speaking the truth. “What happened?” she asked, her tone flat.

“Dunno,” Spike said, and there was the sound of defeat in his tone “She showed up late last night like this. I didn’t know what else to do for her.”

He sounded bewildered and at a loss, and for a moment Buffy felt nothing but pity for him. She checked herself in the next moment, remembering who and what Spike was. Even if Drusilla didn’t fit into the category “evil undead” anymore, Spike certainly did.

“Well, I suppose we can help,” Buffy said grudgingly. “But you can’t stay, Spike.”

“’m not leavin’ her!” he shot back, tightening his grip around Drusilla.

The dark-haired woman clung to him. “I won’t leave. You can’t make me.” Drusilla looked at Spike intently. “She’ll tell Daddy I’m here, she will. And he’ll come and hurt me again. He’ll hurt me and hurt me—” Her voice broke off when she buried her face in Spike’s shoulder.

“’m not leavin’ her,” he said fiercely, looking like a lioness protecting a cub. “And you won’t be callin’ Peaches. Dru’s scared to death of him right now.”

The very fact that Buffy had indeed been contemplating calling Angel freaked her out just a little. Even though the Slayer had known about Drusilla’s mental powers, it was more than a little wiggy to have her mind read like that.

“Of course both you and Drusilla are welcome to stay here tonight,” Joyce said, before Buffy could make a reply. “We’ll figure something out tomorrow.”

“Mom!” Buffy protested. “Spike is not staying here tonight.” She really didn’t care about Drusilla. If the woman was human, she presented no threat the Slayer couldn’t easily counter.

With Spike—well, it was the principle of the thing. She didn’t want Spike under her roof.

“If Drusilla needs Spike to stay here, then they can both stay,” Joyce replied reasonably. “I already promised I would help.”

Buffy shot her mother an anguished look, and then glanced over at Spike, who had a rather self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Yeah, Slayer. Your mum already promised.”

“You. Come with me,” Buffy said, pointing at Spike.

She watched as he sat Drusilla back down at the kitchen counter, murmuring to her quietly. Buffy could just catch his softly spoken words. “Don’t you worry, luv. I’ll just be in the next room. Not far at all. Nothin’s gonna hurt you while you’re in the Slayer’s house. I can promise you that.”

She nodded, seeming to calm down a bit. “Hurry back, my Spike.”

“Back before you know it, luv,” Spike replied patiently, touching her cheek in a tender gesture that touched Buffy in spite of herself.

So yeah, Spike was an evil vampire, but at the same time she couldn’t help but be a little jealous. Buffy wished she had a guy who was that devoted.

“This isn’t going to work, Spike,” Buffy said without preamble once they’d made it into the living room. “You can’t stay here.”

Spike scowled. “I know that!” he snapped. “But I had to do somethin’ with her.” He ran a hand through his hair distractedly, and Buffy noticed with some disbelief that it was curly.

Spike had curly hair. No wonder he always gelled it. No one believed in a Big Bad with curly hair.

The Slayer sighed. She didn’t like Spike; never had, never would. But that didn’t change the fact that Drusilla was now human, and whatever had done this to her had to be fairly powerful. It might, in fact, pose some threat. “Okay, Spike,” Buffy said, moderating her tone slightly. “What are we going to do?”

He stared at her in disbelief, blue eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“What are we going to do?” Buffy repeated. “Look, you and I both know that whatever happened, it was big. They might come after her here. In that case, we need some idea of what’s going on and what we’re going to do about it.”

Spike was still blinking stupidly. The Slayer kept saying “we” like they were working together. They never worked together. On the other hand, he needed her help, much like he had after he’d gotten the chip. This time, however, it was Drusilla who would suffer if he didn’t accept Buffy’s help. It galled, of course, but that was nothing new.

“She’s been in an’ out of it,” Spike finally said, sitting down on the couch. Buffy suddenly realized how tired he seemed. “Before, she was never lucid for more than maybe a second at a time. Now, ‘s almost like she’s comin’ back to herself. From what ‘ve been able to pick up, whoever did this to her were after Angel. Other than that, all she keeps nattering on about is blood. Blood on her hands, blood on her dress.” He sighed deeply. “Was a time when she’d have liked that,” he muttered.

Buffy decided to ignore that last comment as irrelevant. “I need to talk to her, Spike.”

“Not unless I’m there with her,” he replied, sounding almost angry. “Not leavin’ her with anybody.”

The Slayer sighed. “Fine, Spike. I won’t talk to her without her lawyer present.”

Spike’s head shot up and he gave her a sweetly rueful grin. “Sorry, pet, but she’s my girl.”

Buffy regarded him silently for a moment. “I can see that, Spike.”

~~~~~

Buffy stood, arms crossed, watching as Spike tried to calm Drusilla a bit. She had her hand clasped in his and didn’t look as though she would be letting go any time soon. “The Slayer wants to help, luv,” Spike said quietly. “So we need to know what you can tell us ‘bout what happened.”

Drusilla looked up at the Slayer with huge eyes, wide with fear. “You’ll help me? Even though I’m all bloody?”

“Yeah, Drusilla,” Buffy replied as gently as she was able. “I’ll help.”

She also needed to call her Watcher, but Buffy had decided that it would be best to wait until morning. Giles would want to talk to Drusilla himself, and the woman was overwhelmed as it was.

“There was a man and a woman,” Drusilla began earnestly. “Black as coal, the both of them. They’ll never get clean.” In spite of her cryptic words, she sounded almost sane. “They wanted to use me to get to Angel, but I wasn’t going to let them.” She smiled slyly. “They didn’t believe I was a clever girl.”

“Wankers,” Spike said fondly. “You’re the cleverest.”

“So I left to find my Spike, because he would take care of me.”

“’course I will, luv,” Spike said gently. “Do you know who the man and woman were?”

Drusilla scrunched up her nose. “Smelled of dusty books and tomes. Always tryin’ to find the little holes to wriggle out. Like mice,” she declared, obviously proud of her analogy.

Spike frowned thoughtfully, but Buffy was becoming impatient. “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

When Drusilla looked as though she was about to cry, Spike glared at the Slayer. “Tells you everythin’ you need to know, Slayer,” he nearly snarled. “Man, woman, enemies of the Great Poof, an’ they’re lawyers. It’s easy enough.”

Buffy honestly had no idea how Spike had gotten that information out of Drusilla’s garbled and cryptic explanation. She did have to admit, however, that it was pointless to push for more facts. The other woman wasn’t capable of being pushed right now. “Fine. Lawyers who are after Angel. You know this means I’m going to have to call him, Spike.”

Drusilla’s eyes widened. “You can’t! Mustn’t tell him where I am. Daddy will punish me. I’ve been a very naughty girl,” she whispered confidingly.

Buffy was inclined to agree with her, but one look at Spike’s face shut down whatever glib comment she had been about to make. “I’ll just call and ask,” she soothed. “Angel doesn’t have to know anything.”

“Sure he doesn’t,” Spike muttered. “Mark my words, you call him an’ he’ll be here soon’s he can to see for himself.” That comment started Drusilla off again, and Spike hastened to comfort her. “Won’t let him get to you, pet. He won’t hurt you this time around, I promise.”

The Slayer sighed. “Look, Spike, why don’t we let this go until after I can talk to Giles at least? You both look like you could use some sleep.” This last was said in grudging admission that they would both be staying under her roof that night. There was a small, spiteful part of Buffy that wanted to insist on Spike being tied up if he was going to stay, but she knew that it wouldn’t be worth it. Tying Spike up would most likely result in Drusilla getting really wild, and the vampire being unable to do anything about it.

Buffy certainly didn’t want to be in charge of the crazy woman.

Spike gave her a rueful look, the expression almost causing her to forget that he wasn’t human. “Probably won’t sleep,” he said quietly. “Dru’s been havin’ nightmares every time she closes her eyes.” He shrugged. “Might be best to be in the basement so we’re not wakin’ your mum all night.”

She noticed that Spike didn’t say anything at all about waking her all night, but it impressed her that he gave her mother so much consideration. “The basement’s a mess,” she replied reluctantly. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she won’t have a lot of nightmares.”

“Or maybe we try something else,” Joyce suggested from the doorway. She held out a bottle and a glass of water to Spike. “Benadryl,” she explained. “It’s harmless, but it will help her sleep. It’s possible that it might keep her from waking constantly.”

Spike hesitated, obviously unwilling to drug Drusilla. Buffy had to admit that she was impressed. If it had been her call, she’d have the woman drugged constantly to maintain her own sanity. “She could get sick if she doesn’t sleep, right?”

“That’s right,” Joyce replied. “Trust a mother, Spike. This will help.”

He nodded, then looked over at Joyce. “You got a place I can get her cleaned up? She doesn’t have anything to change into, of course, but maybe…” Spike trailed off, placing the back of his hand against Drusilla’s cheek. “She always did like bein’ clean.”

“You can use the bathroom upstairs,” Joyce replied gently. “I’ll see if I can find her something to wear.”

Buffy watched with envious eyes as Spike swept Drusilla up into his arms, whispering something into her ear that made her laugh. She, in turn, rested her head against his shoulder, and murmured. “My brave knight, my lamb.”


	3. Calling All Angels

Spike caught his first glimpse of trouble when Drusilla barred him from entering the bathroom. “’Tisn’t right for you to see me naked. We’re not married.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Dru,” he explained patiently, “we were together for over a hundred years. ‘ve seen all there is to see.”

She shook her head stubbornly, and he sighed. The vampire had seen her like this before when Dru got some idea into her head—it had been the same with the Judge. No matter how bad an idea he’d thought it, Spike had known she would not be denied. “Fine. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Spike slumped against the wall outside the bathroom, listening to the sound of Dru’s voice intermixed with water. He wanted to be in there with her, watching her, touching her again. Spike was hungry for the feel of her body against his, even though he knew it wouldn’t be the same now that she was human.

He wanted to show her what it could be like, especially if Dru let him turn her.

Oh, Spike was going to wait, of course. Wait until her moments of lucidity stretched out into hours if not days. She’d never be quite right, not with her visions, but if he waited long enough it would be better for her.

They would have to leave Sunnydale right after. There was no way the Slayer would let them stay around, but it didn’t matter. With Dru at his side, there would be no problem going back on a people-diet. They could hunt together, and as long as she did the killing, Spike would have no problem feeding. They could go down to South America. Or maybe it was time to try Europe again. After all, with Drusilla sane, she might be relied upon not to bring an angry mob down on them.

Spike was startled out of his reverie by the sound of the bathroom door opening. “How do I look?”

He was taken aback by how shy Drusilla sounded—almost virginal, in fact. That was impossible, as he well knew. Dru had liked sex as much as he had. She had, in fact, been more into kink than he was, and that was saying something.

She was wearing one of Joyce’s nightgowns, one of those voluminous styles with lots of material. And not the see-through kind either. “You look right nice, pet,” Spike said, knowing that was always the correct response.

“Will you—will you stay with me tonight, Spike?” Drusilla asked, her voice hesitant. “Would it be wrong?”

“Wrong, luv?” Spike replied, taking her hand in his and stroking her cheek with his other. “You know I love you. How could it be wrong?”

She looked away shyly. “But a man and woman aren’t supposed to stay together before they’re married. I remember that.”

This was the Drusilla that his poet’s heart had fallen in love with. Drusilla, for all her deviousness, for all her insanity, had been just as complex as a vampire as was Spike. She had been erotic and shy and assertive all at once.

And although he loved this side of her, Spike could feel the Drusilla he’d known rapidly slipping away. He knew the stories, knew what she had been before Angelus had gotten to her. As her sanity returned, so would her innocence.

While there had been nothing Spike liked doing quite so much as corrupting the innocent, it was different when it was Dru. Different when you knew and loved the person.

Different when you understood that you were damning them to everything they had hated.

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he promised, somehow not finding it difficult to say to her, to Drusilla. She had needed him to be a monster, and so he had become her monster. If she needed him to be a gentleman, Spike could do that too.

He was a man of many aspects after all.

Spike led Drusilla into the guest room Joyce had set aside for them, not noticing that Buffy stood watching them from the doorway of her room.

~~~~~

“It’s totally wiggy, Giles,” Buffy said, pacing across from where he sat on the couch. “I mean, it’s like Spike is a completely different person when he’s with her.”

Giles pulled off his glasses and started polishing them. In between Buffy’s explanation of Drusilla being human again, and the sparse information they had on how it had happened, his Slayer had been constantly talking about Spike. Giles was beginning to wonder if he shouldn’t be worried.

“Yes, well, Spike was with Drusilla for over a century,” the Watcher pointed out reasonably. “And we know he took care of her when she was ill.”

Buffy shook her head. “I know, but you didn’t see them, Giles. It was—weird.” She shook her head. “Spike was actually being considerate.”

Giles sighed. “And Drusilla? How was she acting?”

Buffy frowned and sat. “Crazy one minute and sane the next. She was still sleeping when I left this morning, but I think that’s only because Mom convinced Spike to give her some Benadryl. Apparently, Drusilla didn’t sleep at all the night before that. Nightmares or something.”

Giles pushed his glasses back on and leaned back against the couch cushions. “I see. It appears she’s feeling the weight of her crimes then.”

The Slayer nodded. “That’s what it seems like, Giles. I don’t know. I almost feel sorry for her. I know what she’s done, but—If you saw her…”

“I do understand, Buffy,” Giles replied. “For all the damage she caused as a vampire, Drusilla was Angelus’ greatest crime. I believe he told you as much when she first came to town.” At Buffy’s nod, he continued. “She was a victim, first and foremost, and now it seems she is a victim again. Whatever—whomever—brought her back must be a powerful force, Buffy. We must find out if they present any danger to us as soon as possible.”

“Drusilla is really freaked about seeing Angel again,” Buffy replied reluctantly. “I pretty much promised I wouldn’t call him.”

“I don’t think we have a choice,” Giles returned. “While it’s possible that Angel does not know the identity of this enemy, I think we must find out for sure.”

She sighed. “I’ll call him this afternoon, then, when it’s more likely he’s awake. Maybe I can convince him to stay in L.A.” The Slayer made a face. “Not that I think it’s likely.”

Giles raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do about Spike?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy huffed. “I mean, I can’t just kick him out, not when he’s taking care of Drusilla. I know I certainly don’t want to get stuck with her, and Mom’s pretty set on helping. So I guess they’re both going to be staying until we can figure something else out.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Do you think that’s wise, Buffy? Keeping Drusilla and Spike both in the house with who-knows-what after her? Or at least having brought her back?” He hesitated, and then offered, “Perhaps if Angel does want to take her off your hands, that might be best. Drusilla is, after all, his responsibility.”

Buffy considered, and then shook her head. “You didn’t see her when Angel is mentioned, Giles. Maybe if she agreed to go with him willingly, but I honestly don’t think she will.”

“Think about it at least,” Giles urged. “If Angel insists upon coming to Sunnydale, perhaps we can work on something then. You know he wouldn’t hurt her.”

“Yeah, I do,” Buffy muttered. “But the question is, does she?”

~~~~~

She had slept, Spike thought with relief when he finally woke sometime around noon. Slept with no nightmares to wake her and him both. With a gentle hand, he brushed her dark hair away from her face.

His princess had always been beautiful, but no more so than when she slept. And now, with the faint blush of life bringing roses back to her cheeks, she was gorgeous.

And innocent. Innocent as a new bride.

Spike sat up and scrubbed his hands over his face. Bloody hell, what was he supposed to do now? He’d take care of her if she let him, would stay by her side until the very stars fell out of the sky, but he feared that she would resist. After all, he was a demon, and very happy as such, thank you very much.

Drusilla, on the other hand, was a woman—barely more than a girl—and innocent. If he turned her—could he turn her? He’d be no better than Angelus if he did, and yet—

And yet then she would love him again.

He needed a smoke, but Spike didn’t kid himself that it would be possible inside the house. Joyce wouldn’t stand for it. It would be hours yet before it was safe enough for him to go outside and have a fag.

He needed time to think, time to make a decision, figure out what he was going to do.

Just a little time was all Spike needed. Too bad he wasn’t going to get it.

~~~~~

Buffy braced herself to dial the number Willow had given her for Angel. It seemed odd to her that Willow of all people would stay in touch with Cordelia, but it was a good thing. Otherwise, the Slayer wouldn’t have known that Angel’s headquarters had shifted to Cordelia’s apartment for the time being.

She really didn’t want to talk to Angel, but Giles was right. There was only so much they could do for Drusilla, and he deserved to know that someone had changed her into human to get to him. Knowing what she did, it didn’t surprise Buffy when Cordelia answered the phone. “Hey, Cordelia, it’s Buffy.”

The voice on the other end did not sound all that happy to hear from her. “Buffy. Hi. What’s up?”

“Is Angel around?” the Slayer asked. “I had an interesting visitor yesterday, and I’d like to talk to him about it.”

“I guess.” Buffy could just catch her muttering, “Now Angel’s going to be broody for weeks.” Then she heard Cordelia calling loudly for Angel, and another minute passed before her ex-boyfriend’s voice came over the line.

“Buffy?”

“Hey, Angel,” Buffy said, squashing the faintly guilty feelings she had for telling Angel about Drusilla without letting Spike know. Convincing herself that it didn’t matter and that it was for the best. Trying to forget the look of abject terror on Drusilla’s face when Angel’s name came up.

“Is something wrong?” Angel asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Buffy was quick to assure him. “It’s just—Drusilla showed up the other day.”

There was a long pause. “Is she giving you problems?”

“No, but I think she was meant to give you some,” Buffy replied. “Look, Angel, Drusilla’s human now. She says the people who did this to her are human, a man and a woman, and we managed to decipher that they’re lawyers of some kind. Ring a bell?”

“Wolfram and Hart,” Angel growled. “Buffy, I’m not sure you can trust her, not until we know for sure what her game is.”

Buffy sighed. “I don’t think there is a game, Angel. She seems pretty—I don’t know. Harmless, I guess. Spike’s been taking care of her.”

“Spike?” Angel’s tone was sharp. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Buffy. He might—” The vampire paused. “I’m coming up.”

“That’s not necessary,” Buffy replied half-heartedly. “She got pretty freaked out when your name was mentioned.”

“Still, I don’t think Spike can be trusted with her, and she’s my responsibility.” Buffy could very nearly hear the mantle of guilt fall on his shoulders. “I’ll start driving as soon as the sun goes down.”

Buffy knew from his tone that Angel would not be dissuaded. “Fine, Angel. I’ll see you tonight then.”

“And don’t tell Spike I’m coming,” Angel ordered. “It’s better if he’s not prepared.”

Buffy was about to ask him why when she heard the click of the receiver and knew he’d hung up. “Angel’s coming,” she told Giles unnecessarily.

“So I hear.” Giles looked at her with worried eyes. “Will you be alright?”

Buffy shook her head. “Of course I’ll be fine, Giles. I’m—well, I’m not over him, but I think I’ve finally accepted things.” She pulled a face. “Although it would have been a lot nicer if I could have met him with Riley at my side.”

~~~~~

“You’ve got to eat, luv,” Spike urged. “Just a bit.”

Drusilla shook her head. “He’s coming,” she moaned. “Daddy’s coming, and he’s going to be so angry.”

Spike stared at her in consternation. She’d been lucid when she woke up—lucid enough to have a real conversation with him. They had lain on the bed and talked about the last year or so. Dru had known about the chip by whatever means, but Spike had told her about the Initiative and Adam. She’d been coherent enough to tell him how she had been killed—a vampire consort had staked her in a fit of pique.

Drusilla had even managed to explain her escape from the lawyers, and she described the older man with whom she’d hitched a ride to Sunnydale. “Just knew I had to get to you, my Spike.”

Spike had lain on his side, stroking her face. “You ever wish we could go back to the way things used to be?” he asked. “Just the two of us, cuttin’ a bloody swathe through whatever country we’re in.”

Drusilla frowned. “It’s not nice to hurt people, my Spike.”

“No, don’t suppose it is,” Spike acknowledged. “Was a time you didn’t care about ‘nice,’ though.”

She sighed. “But I do now.” Drusilla stared at him. “I hurt you,” she murmured. “Ripped your heart out and made you bleed.”

Spike glanced away, suddenly uncomfortable with her expression. Dru had looked upon him in love, lust, anger, even disdain. But never had she looked as though she cared. As though she pitied him. “’m alright, Dru,” he muttered.

“No, you’re not,” she replied softly. Drusilla laid a hand on his chest. “Your heart is still not your own, my poor boy, though you hardly know it yet.”

Spike frowned. “My heart’s yours, Dru. ‘ve told you that again and again.”

She shook her head. “Not anymore,” she corrected him, her eyes gentle. “But it’s alright. You’re still my brave knight.”

“’d do anythin’ for you, luv,” he said fervently. “Anythin’. I can—I could make you like me. We’d be together forever that way.”

“You’re not mine anymore, pet,” Drusilla replied. “Wish you were. My own sweet William.”

She hadn’t called him that in years, not since he’d begun going by Spike. He frowned, trying to figure out what her sudden change in address meant, but Drusilla had stiffened, her dark eyes going wide in fright. “He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming, luv?” Spike immediately asked, trusting in her uncanny knack for knowing things. Just because she wasn’t quite as insane as she had been didn’t mean she didn’t still have visions. “Tell me.”

“Daddy’s coming,” she whispered. “Oh, he’s so mad. Be careful, my Spike. He’ll hurt you if he can.”

“Angel’s not goin’ to touch either one of us,” Spike replied fiercely.

That had been the last bit of sense he’d been able to get out of her. Drusilla had been beside herself for the rest of the morning and the afternoon, growing more and more agitated as the hours passed. Spike was anxiously awaiting the Slayer’s return. She had promised not to call Angel, at least not for a while.

Buffy had seen what the mere mention of Angel’s name had done to Dru. Even if she had called the vampire, surely she would have let him know.

Spike frowned, remembering that this was the Slayer they were talking about. It wasn’t as though Buffy were considerate of him or his feelings. If she had called Angel, and if he was coming—as Dru insisted—there was no way he’d be able to carry out his plan for turning her. There was no way Angel would even leave him alone with Dru.

Spike knew this just as he knew Angel would understand what he was planning. After all, it wasn’t as though Angelus wouldn’t have done the same thing under similar circumstances, except he would probably torture Dru all over again.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, thinking furiously. “Look, Dru, you think you could come with me? We’ll have to be quick an’ quiet, but we can get away before Angel gets here. I promise, I won’t let him hurt you.”

Drusilla seemed to consider this for a moment, giving Spike a flash of hope. If he could just calm her down, make her realize that things were going to be fine, she might yet be sane enough to turn tonight. It would have to be done before Angel found them, and Spike would need to get them out of town immediately after.

There was transportation to arrange, as well as a secure location to find. His crypt would do for now, but then he’d need to find another place to actually turn Dru. It wouldn’t do to let the Slayer or anyone else find them.

Spike glanced out the door, noting that the last light was beginning to fade from the sky. Angel would be setting out soon, if he hadn’t already, and Spike needed to be quick.

He had no desire whatsoever to see Peaches again, especially after their last meeting.


	4. Return to Innocence

“I’m just saying, Angel. There’s no place to put Drusilla.”

Both Wesley and Cordelia had been trying to make Angel see reason for the last two hours. Now they were approaching Sunnydale, and the big vampire showed no signs of being swayed. “Listen to Wes,” Cordy urged. “He’s speaking sense. For once.”

“I beg your pardon!” Wesley said, highly offended. “I always make sense, while you on the other hand—”

“Children, please,” Angel said wearily. “Look, I know we’ll have to get creative, but I’m not leaving Dru with Spike. And besides, she’s my responsibility.”

Cordelia and Wesley exchanged looks. Angel had been extra-broody since Buffy had called earlier that day, although this time it hadn’t been the Slayer’s fault. Instead, Angel had been working himself up over what he was certain Spike was going to do to Drusilla once he got her alone.

Angel seemed to be feeling that it was his responsibility to save her from the same fate he’d previously doomed her to. Neither of his associates were convinced that Drusilla was in need of saving. As Wesley had remarked to Cordelia earlier, “Angel is simply reacting to the guilt he feels over torturing and turning her so many years ago. It’s a perfectly natural reaction.”

Natural or not, however, it didn’t create any more room in Cordy’s apartment, which was AI’s current headquarters since the office had been blown up.

“Well, she can’t stay with me, Angel,” Cordelia said firmly. “I don’t have any more space, and I don’t have time to look after crazy ex-vampires. It wasn’t in the job contract.”

“She’s one of the helpless we’re supposed to be helping,” Angel protested.

Cordelia glared at the back of his head. “She’s not a paying client, which is the only kind I would let live in my place. And don’t you think Dennis would completely freak her out?”

Angel thought about that for a minute. “Maybe, but if we explained—”

“No.” Cordelia’s tone was firm, with no wiggle room. Even Wesley knew better than to argue with her when she was like that.

Angel glanced at Wesley, who was sitting in the passenger seat by virtue of his longer legs. “Wes, maybe—”

“No,” Wesley replied immediately. “I have a very small flat, Angel, and I am not prepared to look after someone with Drusilla’s needs.”

Angel was prepared to beg. He did not want to leave Drusilla in Sunnydale within Spike’s reach. “I could stay too.”

Wesley was not ready to give up that much of his privacy. Actually, he wasn’t prepared to give up any of his privacy. He liked living alone. He enjoyed his co-workers, and he spent a great deal of time with them, but he regarded his flat as a retreat. “No, Angel,” Wesley replied. “I have to say I’m with Cordelia. I don’t blame you for wanting to make certain that Drusilla is okay, but we haven’t any place to put her.”

Angel frowned, not having expected this kind of resistance from his friends. “Just for a few days,” he said, even more persuasively. “I’ll start looking for a new place as soon as we get back to L.A.”

Wesley heaved a deeply put-upon sigh. “_If_ we find it necessary to remove Drusilla from Sunnydale, then she can stay at my apartment. But honestly, Angel, I don’t have room for the two of you either.”

There was a small sound in the back seat from Cordy that some might have interpreted as a coughed, “Wuss,” but Wesley decided to ignore it.

“Thanks, Wes,” Angel replied sincerely. “I really appreciate it.”

Wesley stifled a moan, knowing that whether he liked it or not, he’d just gotten stuck ex-vampire-sitting.

~~~~~

After talking with Angel, Buffy had plans to go out with Willow, just the two of them because Tara had to work. Once again the Slayer found herself talking about Spike’s strange relationship with Drusilla. Willow was a much more sympathetic listener than Giles had been. “Wow, Buffy. That’s—crazy.”

“I know,” Buffy said, having just gotten done explaining the scene she’d witnessed the previous night, unbeknownst to Spike. “It’s just, he’s so attentive, Willow. And he’s nice to Mom too.”

Willow frowned thoughtfully. “Well, he was nice to me too, sorta, that night he was going to kill me.” At the Slayer’s raised eyebrow, she quickly explained, “He did try to make me feel better about Oz leaving. In a really weird way.”

Buffy sighed. “It’s annoying, because I had this idea of Spike as the annoying bleached menace, and he still is, but—”

“Now you see him as sensitive-boyfriend too,” Willow finished.

“Pretty much,” Buffy replied glumly. “I liked Spike’s box. It was comfortable…for me.”

“Boxes are never comfortable,” Willow said, speaking from past experience. “But you called Angel? And he’s coming?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, looking around. “Do you have a watch on, Will?”

Willow looked at her watch. “It’s a little after seven.”

Buffy yelped. “Oh, crap. I’d better get back to the house and let Spike know Angel’s on his way.” The Slayer made a face. “He’s going to be pissed.”

Willow shrugged. “It’s not like you can control whether or not Angel’s coming.”

“I don’t think Spike’s going to see it that way, though,” Buffy replied.

~~~~~

Spike had stopped at the crypt only briefly to collect a few personal belongings, including some clothing and all his cash. Then, he’d taken Drusilla to the Sunnydale Inn by the highway. It was the cheapest motel in town, and seemed like the best option since they couldn’t very well stay at his place. Not if he was going to turn her. Not if Angel was on his way into town.

Once he turned Drusilla, things would be fine, but right now all he could think about was what would happen if he couldn’t do it.

If he didn’t turn her. That option had crossed his mind.

There were places in South America that would be safe, where he could find a way to rent a cheap villa and hire a girl to look after Dru and do the shopping and such. All that required money, however, and money wasn’t something that was quite as easy to get his hands on now that he had the chip in his head.

So he had to turn Dru. There wasn’t any other choice.

Spike knew he was trying to convince himself.

She was sitting on the single bed, regarding him with a kind of watchfulness he found unsettling. Drusilla, sane, was more formidable than he’d ever dared imagine. “Look, Dru—”

“You want me to join you,” she said softly, and there was a sadness in her voice that frightened him, even though the Big Bad wasn’t supposed to be scared of anything or anyone.

Spike blinked, and then came to sit next to her on the bed. “You’d be free of the guilt, Dru. We could go off together again, just us. The whole world could be ours, or even one small corner. I’d settle for that with you.”

“But that isn’t your destiny, William,” Drusilla replied. “It isn’t me you love anymore.”

Spike wanted to pass it off as madness, except that she didn’t sound crazy. In fact, she sounded completely normal, and he found himself near tears. Over the last 48 hours of having her by his side, Spike had allowed himself to dream of what a future with Drusilla might look like. It would be just like the last couple years had never happened. They could rebuild from the ruins of what Angelus had left to them.

And as hard as Spike fought against the knowledge, he knew that Drusilla was right. He did still love her, but not as he once had. “I’d stay with you forever, luv,” he whispered. “I could make you mine.”

There were tears welling up in Drusilla’s eyes, and Spike suddenly knew that the time for turning her had long passed. Her innocence tore at his undead heart. He loved this woman in all her incarnations—she had saved him from a life of mediocrity.

Drusilla had given him a purpose and a mission, had given him life when she’d killed him. How could he repay her by killing her now, when to do so would destroy all she’d regained?

“Would you damn me as well, my Spike?” she asked quietly. “I remember—remember their bodies. He killed them all and then he came after me. I loved them.”

She had loved them when she was crazy and evil too, Spike remembered. “I know you did, pet.”

“I didn’t want this, my Spike,” she said. “I wanted to die, to join Mummy and the rest. I didn’t want to wet my hands with blood.”

Spike took her hands in his. “Don’t know much ‘bout that sort of thing, luv. ‘m not a philosopher. Wasn’t even a very good poet, but it wasn’t your fault. Place the blame at Angelus’ door, where it belongs.” He smiled slyly. “Wanker could probably use another load of guilt anyway.”

Drusilla matched his smile with one of her own. “He is overwhelmed by the weight of it all,” she agreed. Her fingers traced his cheekbone. “I can see it now,” she murmured. “You’ll save them all, my love. They do not see your vision or your imagination.”

“You’re the only one who ever did,” Spike replied, closing his eyes as he relinquished all dreams for the future with Drusilla. He couldn’t turn her; if not because he loved her, then because he refused to be as great of a bastard as his grandsire.

Drusilla drew him to her, and she found that her mind was clear as it hadn’t been in centuries. What the obsessive hatred of one vampire had done, the love of another vampire had undone. It had a curious symmetry. With Spike’s head on her breast, she murmured words of love, of hope. She told him his future, what she had seen of it, careful not to give too much away.

She called him her brave knight and promised that the future was always brighter than the present. Spike found himself in the arms of his Sire, her embrace and words everything he might have dreamt of, everything he had ever wanted.

And Spike knew it was all slipping through his fingers.

~~~~~

Buffy returned to an empty house. It was apparent that her mom hadn’t gotten back from the gallery yet, and Angel wasn’t due for another couple hours. When she searched the house, the Slayer found Spike and Drusilla gone, the spare room bed made, and no sign they’d been there at all.

Buffy pursed her lips, certain that this was not a good thing. Although, since Drusilla was human, Spike couldn’t hurt her. Angel wasn’t going to be happy, however, and Giles was supposed to meet her here very shortly to talk with the ex-vampire. Buffy had no idea how she was supposed to find Spike and his girlfriend while waiting for her Watcher and another vampire.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang, and Buffy opened the door to find Giles standing there. “Buffy,” he greeted her, coming in after her silent welcome. “Did you and Willow have a pleasant afternoon?”

“It was good,” Buffy replied. “I think we might have a problem, though.”

Giles pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess. Spike and Drusilla aren’t here.” He sighed. “I’m not sure you should have left them here by themselves.”

“I’m thinking that myself right about now,” Buffy snapped back. “But that doesn’t do us a whole lot of good. Besides, how was I to know they’d take off? Spike seemed pretty intent on staying put last night.”

Giles decided it wasn’t worth it to argue the point. His Slayer was right in that it didn’t do them any good to argue about it. “You’re right. Where would they have gone?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Buffy asked. “Best guess? Probably his crypt. I don’t know where else Spike would go unless he decided to skip town.”

From what Buffy had told him, Giles highly doubted that Spike would leave town with Drusilla in tow, no matter how devoted he was. Without help, the vampire would find it most difficult to care for the now-human woman. “The crypt is most likely our best choice,” Giles said. “When do you anticipate Angel arriving?”

Buffy thought for a minute, quickly doing the math in her head. “I don’t know. If Angel drives, it’s going to be at least another hour. Of course, if he had someone else to do the driving, they could be here any minute.”

Slayer and Watcher regarded one another for a minute in silence before Giles went to sit down on the sofa. “I imagine Spike can take care of himself for a while then,” he stated. “We can try to find the both of them when Angel arrives.”

~~~~~

They didn’t have to wait long, as Angel had, indeed, asked Wesley to drive the first leg of the journey while the sun was still in the sky. After it was safe, he’d emerged from his blanket and taken the wheel himself.

By the time Angel reached the Summers’ front door, he’d worked himself into a state, imagining all the things Spike could have done to Dru in the time since Buffy had called him. He was in such a tizzy that when Buffy opened the door at his knock that he demanded, “Where are they?”

“Hello to you too, Angel,” Buffy replied sarcastically. “And it’s so nice to see you.”

Angel scowled, thinking that the Slayer really wasn’t taking this seriously. “Where are Spike and Dru, Buffy? It’s important.”

The Slayer rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s important, Angel. It always is. They’re not here.” She looked past the vampire to see Cordelia and Wesley standing on her porch. She was so irritated at Angel right now that she was almost happy to see her ex-Watcher and ex-nemesis. “Hey guys.”

“Hey, Buffy,” Cordelia replied, brushing past Angel to enter the house. “I’m sorry, but Angel’s been working himself up ever since we left L.A.”

“I think I can take care of Spike, Angel,” Buffy said, sounding disgusted. “I mean, it’s not as if I haven’t been dealing with him for years now.”

Wesley cleared his throat. “I believe Angel fears that Spike may find a way to turn Drusilla.”

“He has a chip,” Giles said. “It won’t allow him to hurt humans.”

“There are other ways,” Angel replied impatiently. “I know if I—” He broke that sentence off, knowing that it could easily get him into trouble. “We need to find them.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “They’re probably at Spike’s crypt,” she said. “Come on.”

~~~~~

They weren’t at Spike’s crypt. There were a few signs of hasty packing, but nothing conclusive. Buffy heard Angel growl deep in his throat. The Slayer had suggested that just she and Angel go, but the others had insisted on tagging along—Giles probably because he wanted to talk with Drusilla when they found her. Buffy had no idea what the others’ motives were, but both Wesley and Cordelia seemed well in-tune with the drill.

Buffy had to wonder what the heck had happened to change the two of them so drastically, because she really was liking them a lot more than their boss at this point.

“Angel, why would it be such a big deal if Spike did leave town with Drusilla?” Buffy asked, feeling a little twinge. It wasn’t that she would miss Spike if he left town, precisely. It was that he made things more interesting.

Who else could she beat up for information, anyway?

Angel was pacing restlessly. “Buffy, you don’t know Spike like I do. He’ll turn Dru, and then you’ll have to worry about both of them.”

The Slayer was torn as to how much she’d have to worry. On the one hand, Angel was correct. Spike and Dru together were a formidable team. At the same time, however, Spike would still be chipped, and he, at least, could be trusted not to go after her mother and friends. Not like some vampires she could name.

“Okay, turning Drusilla, bad,” Buffy agreed. “But what if he just got lost? Angel, just because you’re feeling guilty doesn’t make Drusilla your responsibility.”

“That’s what we’ve been telling him all day,” Cordelia broke in. “Look, Angel, I’m sure Buffy has things under control. She’s the Slayer. Can we go home now?”

Angel ignored all of them, stepping out of the crypt to sniff at the night air. His eyes narrowed. “They went this way.”

Buffy and the others watched him lope off, and both she and Cordelia wrinkled their noses in disgust. “Was it just me, or was that gross?” Cordelia asked.

“No, that was gross,” Buffy agreed. The two women exchanged looks of female solidarity. The Slayer sighed. “We’d better follow. If Angel finds Spike, he’ll probably stake first and ask questions later.”

Only Wesley heard Giles mutter under his breath as they followed. “And yet I fail to see why that would be a bad thing.”


	5. The Longest Word

He was sleeping. Drusilla cradled him as she would a child. Before it all, before Angelus and his games, before the visions, she had dreamed of this. Dreamed of having a husband and children, babies to suckle and nurture and bring up.

Drusilla had, above all things, been a good girl.

Then had come the visions, frightening glimpses of the future that had marked her as evil. She hadn’t understood, had believed that God was punishing her for some unknown sin, and yet no amount of praying or fasting or confessing had caused them to go away.

Looking back, Drusilla could see the past with clear eyes. Her visions had not been evil. No, she had seen true evil, and it wore the face of an angel.

Drusilla glanced down at Spike, feeling a pang of true remorse. William had been such an innocent—as pure in his own way as she herself had been. Yet she and Angel had been unable to completely irradicate the sweetness of William. Her boy had always loved with such a passion, as he still did, though he didn’t know it yet.

She glanced up at the door, waiting. Angel would be coming soon, and though Drusilla felt the clawing sense of fear at her heart, she knew that the demon was held tightly in check by the soul.

Drusilla wasn’t certain that it would make a difference.

She could not stay here. It would not be right, and would only serve as a distraction for Spike. Dru could see his path stretched out before him; he would be a Champion, as he was always meant to be.

It would be her penance—to leave him when she would like nothing better than to stay. Spike would try to convince her to come with him, of course. He’d plead and tell her that they could find happiness elsewhere, and that was true enough, but it wouldn’t be right.

And Drusilla was intent upon doing what was right. Even if the fear threatened her mind again. She frowned. “Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman.”

Spike stirred in her arms, his eyes blinking open slowly. “Dru?” He muttered. “Bloody hell, you shouldn’t have let me sleep.”

“You needed it,” Drusilla replied. “You’ve been busy taking care of me.”

“I don’t mind, luv,” he replied, sitting up slowly. “Feel like a pansy, fallin’ asleep on you like that, though.”

Dru touched his cheek. “Angel is coming.”

Spike shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, pet. He won’t find us here.”

“He’s coming,” she repeated. “And he’s not happy with you.”

Spike smirked. “Peaches never is.” There was a pause, and Spike saw something in her face that worried him. “Dru? What’s wrong?”

“I’m leaving, my Spike,” she said softly. When he opened his mouth to protest, Dru silenced him with gentle fingers. “I must.”

Spike shook his head. “We could leave, Dru. I’d take care of you. We’ll go to South America again, or Mexico.” The vampire knew he’d already lost the battle, even through his protests. Dru knew her own mind—even when she’d been crazy—and he could tell that she was set on leaving. It felt as though she was ripping out his heart all over again. “You’re not goin’ with Angel!”

Drusilla shook her head quickly. “No, not with Angel. I cannot bear to look at him just now.” Her eyes bore into his, and Spike didn’t think she looked quite sane. “You must stay, Spike. It’s important.”

“Nothin’s more important than you are, pet!”

“That’s not true,” she replied. “Listen. There are two things you must know.”

“Dru—”

“We don’t have much time,” she told him. “Now shush.” Spike shut his mouth. “The Slayer’s mum is ill. You must help her see it. She won’t listen to me.”

Spike frowned. “Not like she’d listen to me, either,” he muttered.

“Try,” Drusilla said, a touch of wry humor in her tone. For a moment the madness receded again, and she was merely a woman speaking to a rather exasperating man. “The second thing is the Slayer’s sister.”

“Slayer doesn’t have a sister,” Spike objected.

Drusilla shrugged. “Not yet, but she’s the Key to the whole thing. You have to protect her, Spike, just like you protected Mummy.”

“Dammit, Dru,” Spike said, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You don’t have to go! Or I’ll go with you. ‘s ‘bout time I left Sunnyhell anyway.”

Drusilla shook her head, in a panic. “No, you mustn’t. You mustn’t leave. I won’t have more blood on my hands, Spike. I won’t!”

“I’ll stay,” Spike promised, pulling her close. “If it’s that soddin’ important, I’ll stay. But ‘m doin’ it for you, not the bloody Slayer.”

Her head shot up. “They’re here.”

And then the door flew open.

~~~~~

It was chaos for the first few moments. At the first sight of Angel, Drusilla lost much of her hard-won equilibrium. She started doing that squealing thing she did when she got upset, when Spike was the only one who could calm her down.

Of course, Spike couldn’t do anything of the sort with Angel doing his best to snap his head off with his bare hands. “Angel!” Buffy called, trying to pull him off Spike. “Stop it! Drusilla is fine—except for the screeching, which I think is your fault.”

With the Slayer’s help, Spike managed to kick Angel off him with a well-placed boot. Angel huffed, doubling over in pain. Buffy winced in sympathy, remembering another time when she’d used the same tactic. Of course, remembering Angelus squelched much of her sympathy.

“Nice to see you too, Peaches,” Spike growled, pushing past the others to get to Drusilla, whom he pulled into his arms. “Ssh, luv. It’s alright.”

Drusilla buried her head in Spike’s chest so she wouldn’t have to look at the vampire. Although she did remember that this was Angel, and not Angelus—and although she understood the difference—the very sight of him tore at her mind. Everything he had done to her came rushing back, and she could suddenly see the bodies of her loved ones laid out before her.

“Make him leave, Slayer,” Spike growled. “He’s upsettin’ Dru.”

Angel strained forward, recovered from Spike’s kick, fighting against Buffy’s hold. “You’re going to turn her!”

“And be like you?” Spike asked incredulously—nevermind that it _had_ been his plan. “She was nearly sane before you came in like the bloody Stormtroopers. Chip might stop me from hurtin’ humans, but it won’t keep me from kickin’ your ass.”

Spike made no move towards the bigger vampire, however, having his hands full trying to placate Drusilla. “Angel, outside,” Buffy ordered, before things could get anymore heated than they already were. “You’re obviously upsetting her.”

“I’m not!” Angel protested.

Drusilla started shouting, “Snake in the grass! Snake in the grass!”

Angel froze, remembering that she had said the exact same thing as he and Darla had sex amidst the bodies of dead nuns, right in front of the tormented girl. Right before Angel turned her. “If you hurt her—” he threatened Spike.

“What, like you did?” Spike snarked back. “Get lost, Peaches. Dru’s mine now. I think she’s made that clear enough.”

When Angel finally left the room, Drusilla calmed down slightly. At least she wasn’t making quite as much noise, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, boy, that was fun,” she muttered.

“I had things under control,” Spike said angrily. “Why’d you have to call the Great Poof in?”

“Drusilla was brought back by an evil law firm,” Cordelia said, tyring to reconcile the Spike standing in front of her with the Spike who had tortured Angel with hot pokers. It wasn’t working too well. “Angel thought they might come after her.”

“And of course with you lot runnin’ down here that’s not a dead-giveaway as to where she’s at,” Spike said sarcastically. “How you ever managed to save the world is beyond me,” he muttered.

Wesley and Giles both issued twin sighs. “I agree that it was not a good idea for Angel to come rushing in here, Spike,” Giles said, not believing he was agreeing with the vampire. “However, I don’t think it’s wise for Drusilla to remain in Sunnydale. Should the lawyers come after her, you will not be able to protect her. They are human.”

Spike scowled. “Bloody hell, do you think I don’t know that?” His grip around Drusilla tightened. “She can’t go back with Angel. I won’t let him drive her batty again.” He ran a tender hand through her hair. “She was doin’ so well.”

“It wouldn’t be Angel she’d return with, Spike,” Wesley said. “I, uh, already offered Angel the use of my flat. Just for Drusilla,” he added. “Angel has never been there, so he does not have an invitation.”

Panic flared in Spike’s eyes. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. Spike knew that Drusilla—once Angel left and she was okay again—would insist that she leave for whatever damnfool reason. It was a done deal.

He’d never been one for giving up, though.

“Why does she have to go at all?” he demanded. “She could stay here. I can take care of her!”

Buffy looked over at Giles, communicating with only her eyes. Her Watcher, knowing her as he did, nodded, pulling Wesley and Cordelia out of the hotel room, and closing the door behind him. “Spike, you know that’s not possible.”

Spike stared down at the woman in his arms. “She’s mine!” The protest sounded weak even to his own ears, and the vampire knew that he’d lost. He released Drusilla, sitting her down on the bed and pulling Buffy to one side. The ex-vampire seemed to be completely unaware of her surroundings, having retreated into herself. “Bein’ with Angel will kill her,” he hissed. “You saw her when he came in. Dru was perfectly fine before.”

“I know, Spike,” Buffy said, deciding to take his word for it. “But she can’t stay here. You can’t take care of her now. You can’t give her what she needs.”

Spike snarled wordlessly. “Who says I can’t?” he finally managed. “I took care of her for a hundred bloody years. After the Great Poof left us!” He started pacing. “Dru wept for weeks, wantin’ to know where ‘Daddy’ was at. Well, if he had such a wonderful soul, why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t he help her?”

“I don’t know, Spike,” Buffy replied, her tone almost gentle. She could see how worked up the vampire was and had a funny feeling that it was mostly because he knew he’d have to give Drusilla up. “What if the lawyers do come after her?”

“I dunno,” he said helplessly, the fight draining out of him. “I’d protect her.”

“How, Spike?” Buffy asked, her tone still gentle. “With your dust?”

“If I had to!” he shot back.

Buffy took a step closer to him. “She can’t stay here.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Spike demanded. “Do you really think—” He turned his back on the Slayer, facing Drusilla, murmuring under his breath. “She was goin’ to love me again.”

The Slayer did have some idea of how Spike was planning on accomplishing that goal, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him for it. If she put herself in his shoes—and yes, Buffy did know how weird that sounded, even in her own head—she’d probably have done the same thing.

Why he didn’t turn her was the big question.

“Why didn’t you turn her, Spike?”

“She’s an innocent,” Spike said, as though the answer was obvious. “Just look at her, Slayer. How could I hurt her when she’s like this? Dru didn’t want to be a vamp again. Made me promise—” Spike broke off, not wanting to tell the Slayer what Drusilla had made him promise.

And, of course, now that he’d promised, Spike would see it through. He always kept his promise to his girl.

“Drusilla can stay at our house for a couple days until we can take her to L.A.,” Buffy said. “Wes and the rest of them will take care of her. They know things about this law firm that we don’t.”

Spike turned to face her. “Look after her, Buffy.”

He was gone in the next moment, although Buffy could hear him threatening Wesley with death and/or dismemberment if anything happened to Drusilla while under his care.

Giles came through the door just after Spike left. “Buffy? Is everything okay?”

“Drusilla’s going to stay at my house for a couple days,” Buffy said. “Mom and I can look after her until we can get her to L.A.”

Giles had a surprised expression on his face. “And Spike?”

“He agreed,” Buffy replied evenly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for Angel to travel with Drusilla, though, and it would be better to give her some time to calm down.”

Wesley, who had entered the hotel room behind Giles, sighed, realizing that he was in for a few days—or more—of baby-sitting. “I can come back with Angel’s car,” he offered. “By that time we should have a better idea of how Wolfram &amp; Hart are reacting to her escape anyway.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Giles agreed. “Are you certain you can handle her?”

Wesley shrugged. “I suppose we shall soon see, won’t we?”

~~~~~

Angel stayed in his slumped position against the outside wall of the hotel, even after Spike came storming out. The younger vampire had spared a venemous look for his grandsire before disappearing into the shadows.

Wesley and Giles had gone inside, and while Angel wanted to follow, he had a feeling that Buffy would only kick him out again. Especially if Drusilla started up her screeching. Angel had forgotten how irritating Dru could be once she got going.

“She was scared of me,” he muttered to Cordelia who had stayed loyally by his side.

Cordy rolled her eyes, long used to His Broodiness. “Well, duh, Angel. You killed her entire family and then used mind games to torture her until she went insane. You do the math.”

“She wanted Spike!” Angel said, sounding very put-out. “Spike’s much more evil than I am.”

Cordelia eyed him, wondering if she should say what she was thinking. It wasn’t often that she exercised her tact, but it did exist. Finally deciding that there was no point in holding back, she pointed out, “He might be more evil than Angel, but I don’t think Spike could compete with Angelus.”

Angel growled a little in the back of his throat. “But Angelus is gone.”

“And you still wear his face, Angel, whether you like it or not,” Cordelia replied, although not without compassion. “Drusilla sees you and she’s seeing her worst nightmare.” She patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Maybe it’ll get better.”

“I don’t see how,” Angel muttered. “Not if she starts screaming at the sight of me.”

The young woman couldn’t help but agree, but she decided it would be better just to keep her mouth shut on this one. She stifled a sigh. Cordelia had the feeling that they were going to be putting up with an extra-gloomy Angel for the next few days.

Or weeks.


	6. Odd Couples

Buffy flopped down on the couch with a sigh. Wesley had just left with Drusilla in tow, and the Slayer had to admit that she was happy to have the ex-vampire off her hands. Not that the last couple days had been bad, but Drusilla had definitely required more work than Buffy was accustomed to.

At least she’d had Willow and Tara to give her a hand. Drusilla had seemed to form an instantaneous bond with the two witches, especially Tara, and Buffy was immensely grateful for the blonde witch’s patience and sweet spirit. Drusilla had done so well, in fact, that they’d ended up having a girls’ night. The three of them had introduced the ex-vampire to the joys of Ben and Jerry’s, (and Buffy was really hoping that the woman had a high metabolism since her sweet tooth rivaled the Slayer’s) and teen movies. Drusilla had liked the teen movies too.

In fact, as Spike had said, Drusilla was very nearly normal. She had asked about Spike only once, wanting to know if Buffy had seen him. When the Slayer said she hadn’t, Drusilla had seemed to go off somewhere in her head, muttering something about a “lamb caught in the blackberry patch.” Buffy had no idea what she meant, and she didn’t bother asking.

That was really the extent of the craziness, however. Once in a while, Drusilla would go off and then she’d be back. Sometimes she would spout nonsense and other times she would just—not be there. The only time Drusilla had really wigged Buffy out was when she’d started talking about how her sister would be the key to the doors of the world.

Hello? Buffy didn’t have a sister, as Dru should know, since she’d been living in their house.

Still, as weird as Drusilla could be at times, Buffy was _almost_ sorry to see her leave. At least she’d gone with Wesley quietly enough. The ex-vampire had murmured something about another “brave knight,” and had cackled about messing up someone’s plans, but that had been it.

The Slayer had given her a brief hug, and when Drusilla asked her to look after Spike, Buffy had promised to do so. More to get her out the door without hysterics than for any other reason.

Wesley had pulled Buffy to the side before they’d left, letting her know that the lawyers didn’t seem to know where Drusilla was, nor did they seem intent on finding her again. Which was definitely a relief.

And speaking of Wesley, Buffy wondered when the heck he turned into a real person. The Slayer almost believed that he might be capable of looking after Drusilla until they figured out what to do with her.

Buffy sighed. She supposed she needed to get out there and patrol. She had let things slip the last few nights on account of Dru.

While she was at it, Buffy figured she might as well check on Spike.

At least Giles was happy. He’d gotten enough information from Drusilla to have him researching the spell that brought her back for the rest of the summer. Giles was in Watcher heaven.

Too bad his Slayer wasn’t.

Buffy was hurting for some attention of the male kind, truthfully. Not that she’d ever had a boyfriend over the summer months before. Not since before she’d become the Slayer anyway. The summer days seemed to stretch endlessly on, however, leaving Buffy very much at loose ends.

She hated to even think it, but Buffy was dying for a good apocalypse.

Even slaying wasn’t that exciting lately. Sunnydale was definitely both vamp and demon-lite ever since they’d stopped Adam and shut down the Initiative. Give it a little time, and Buffy was certain that the undead population would be back up to normal levels, but for right now it was Boring City.

There was only one demon left to bother…

Buffy stopped in front of the crypt’s door with the insane urge to knock. It made no sense. Spike was an evil vampire. One did not perform the courtesy of knocking on evil vampires’ doors. It was a law or something.

The Slayer finally decided to compromise by not flinging the door open with a resounding crash. There was only the sound of squeaky hinges and a little thump as it hit the wall. “Spike?”

No answer. Buffy frowned. Her vamp-sense was tingling, so she knew he was somewhere nearby. “Spike? Come on, I know you’re here.”

“Go away.” Spike’s voice had a definite snarly quality.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Geez, Spike. Bad moody much?”

“Yeah, well, you watch the love of your life ride off into the sunset and see how much you like it,” he replied, not sounding at all sorry.

As he came into the dim light of the candles, Buffy could see a new bruise on his cheek. “What happened to you?” she demanded, before she could remind herself that she didn’t care.

“Got jumped by a pack of vamps, if you must know,” Spike replied snidely. “They’re dust now.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose, not pleased. “You couldn’t have saved them for someone whose job it is to kill them?”

“Not when they were tryin’ to off me first, no,” Spike returned sharply. His words were slightly slurred, and Buffy sniffed the air.

“You’ve been drinking,” she accused.

“So what?” Spike replied. “Not like anybody needs me for anythin’.”

Now the vampire was just feeling sorry for himself, causing Buffy to roll her eyes expressively. “You could have stopped by to see her before she left for L.A., you know.”

“She didn’t want to see me,” Spike replied glumly. “Besides, I thought I wasn’t welcome.”

They had moved rapidly back to the snide part of the conversation, and Buffy snapped back, “Mom said you could both stay, Spike. Don’t be going all broody on me.”

“I do not brood!” Spike was yelling now, and it felt good. After the events of the last few days fighting with the Slayer put him back on even ground. “Your precious Angel is the one who broods.”

“He’s not mine!” Buffy shot back hotly. “Why do you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be such a jerk when I was just trying to be nice?”

“Since when are you nice?”

“Since your girlfriend asked me to look after you!”

Silence fell over the crypt. The old enemies regarded each other warily for a moment, each not quite willing to admit that their relationship had changed at a fundamental level. Of course, that didn’t change the fact that it had. “Well, thanks for stopping by,” Spike said grudgingly, sounding almost polite.

Buffy shifted her weight, wondering what “looking after Spike” entailed. Wondering why she even cared. If Xander or the others found out about her promise, she’d never hear the end of it. With uncharacteristic abandonment, Buffy suddenly decided that she didn’t care what her friends thought. They were all wrapped up in their respective significant others. If she wanted to spend her time haunting cemeteries with an undead bleached menace that was her problem.

“Do you want to finish patrol with me?”

Spike’s eyebrow went up. He wasn’t actually that drunk, although he had been drinking. Which was odd, since he could have sworn that Buffy had just asked him to go out on patrol with her. “Are you serious?”

She shrugged. “I’m bored.”

Spike frowned, remembering his promise to Dru. He’d sworn to look after the Slayer’s mum—and the sister that she didn’t have. “Yeah, why not?” he replied. “Let’s go.”

~~~~~

Wesley allowed Drusilla to precede him into his apartment. “I, uh, thought you might want to take the bed,” he began awkwardly. “I can sleep on the couch until—well, until we get things settled.”

Drusilla looked around the apartment, feeling lost. She was lost without Spike, which meant it was true penance. It wasn’t real penance unless it hurt. The priests had always been very clear about that.

“Would you like some tea?”

Wesley’s tentative question broke her train of thought, and Drusilla glanced over at him, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. The ex-Watcher looked nervous, uncomfortable. “I don’t bite.”

It was the sly tone as much as the words that caused him to smile, almost unwillingly. “No, I don’t suppose you do,” Wesley replied, relaxing slightly. “Drusilla—” He stopped, unsure of how to say what he wanted. “I realize that this is probably uncomfortable for you, and I am sorry for that.”

She looked away again, her eyes unfocused. “It can’t be helped.”

“No,” Wesley agreed. “Would you? Like some tea, I mean.”

She smiled at him then, and Wesley found himself reflecting on her beauty, in spite of his best intentions. “That would be lovely.”

~~~~~

“Did they make it in okay?” Angel asked Cordelia anxiously when she put down the phone.

She raised an eyebrow. “No, actually that was Wesley calling from the hospital. They were in a five car pile-up on the interstate.” At the look on the vampire’s face, Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yes, Angel, they’re fine. So can you stop brooding now?”

“Maybe I should go see her,” he suggested, ignoring her suggestion. “I could help her settle in.”

Cordelia stared at him as though he’d grown another head. “Or you could set her off again, and with no Spike to calm her down, Wesley would probably end up staking you. Forget it, Angel.”

Angel sat on her couch, his shoulders slumped, the very picture of dejection. “I don’t understand,” he said plaintively. “Surely Dru’s over her fear of me by now.”

“It’s been three days since the last time you saw her,” Cordelia replied. “I don’t think that’s long enough. Besides, Angel, Wesley’s got everything under control. What you need to concentrate on is finding a new place so you’re not living in my apartment any longer. Wes is only going to put up with a house guest for so long, and then it’s going to be my turn.”

While Cordelia didn’t look terribly happy about having Drusilla as a guest, she did like the idea of Angel getting out of her apartment. Hopefully once that happened, they could convince Drusilla that Angel was harmless, and then foist her off on the vampire.

If he wanted to take responsibility for her so badly, then they would let him.

“I’ve been looking,” Angel protested. “I just haven’t found the right place yet.”

Cordelia stifled a sigh, since that was the whole reason they had been using her apartment in the first place. Angel was the pickiest vampire she’d ever met. “Fine, Angel, but you’d better find something quick, because otherwise you’re going to have a mutiny on your hands.”

~~~~~

“We have to get her back.” Now Lilah Morgan didn’t usually make obscenely obvious comments like that, but she could be excused in this instance. After all, the Senior Partners breathing down one’s neck did have a tendency to induce nervous twitching.

Lindsay gave her a dirty look. “No shit, Lilah,” he muttered. “Look, we know she’s back in L.A.”

Lilah was feeling distinctly panicky. “What good does that do us, Lindsay, when Angel has her?”

The lawyer frowned. “Maybe we can work this to our advantage,” he said, trying to placate her enough so that he could actually think. “If she’s around Angel, it might—”

“What?” Lilah argued. “Drusilla might do what? We were trying to raise Darla for a reason. This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Lindsay didn’t like being blamed for things any more than anyone else did. “How is this my fault?”

“You’re the one that finished the ritual,” Lilah pointed out. “It has to be your fault.”

Lindsay glared at her. “If I hadn’t finished the ritual, nothing would have happened.”

“Which also would have been your fault,” Lilah replied smugly. “Trust me, Lindsay, it’s always going to be your fault.”

He gave her a patently fake smile. “Trust me, Lilah, if I go down for this, I’m going to make sure you come with me.” Lindsay was trying to figure out how they could make good on this mess. Getting the wrong woman back was bad enough, but having lost her was even worse. Of course, the guard who had fallen asleep had been disciplined for dereliction of duty, but that didn’t do much for retrieving Drusilla.

They knew that she’d gone to Sunnydale, which was troubling. The last thing they needed was to get the Slayer involved. Drusilla was back in Los Angeles now, and she wasn’t staying with Angel, which was interesting. Lindsay wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, and he didn’t know if it boded well or ill for them.

“We have to get her back,” Lilah repeated.

A smile blossomed on Lindsay’s face. “Maybe,” he said, thinking about their options. “Then again, maybe not.”

~~~~~

Unfortunately, even using Spike for bait wasn’t bringing out the evil. “I am so bored.”

“Why aren’t you home or with your mates?” Spike asked.

Buffy sighed. “For your information, my ‘mates’ are probably doing the couple thing tonight.”

“An’ you don’t have Captain Cardboard to act as second part of a couple.”

Buffy shot him a dirty look. “Why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be rude.”

“I’m evil.”

“You aren’t rude to Drusilla,” Buffy pointed out reasonably.

Spike frowned. “I love her.”

There wasn’t an argument Buffy could make to that. They walked along in silence for a while, and it was very nearly comfortable. In a strange way. “Slayer?”

“What?”

“Dru told me somethin’. Made me promise to look after your mum.” Spike glanced over at Buffy, trying to determine how she was taking his comment.

For her part, Buffy wasn’t too surprised. “Yeah, what did she tell you?”

“She said your mum was ill.”

“She’s not sick, Spike. Mom’s fine.” There wasn’t any room in Buffy’s tone for argument, so Spike decided to let it go with a sigh. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried anyway. Then, a moment later, Buffy asked, “How often is she right about this kind of thing?”

“More often than chance would indicate,” Spike replied. “Why’d you promise her to check in on me?”

“To get her to leave with Wes without making a huge fuss,” Buffy admitted. “But—”

“But what?” The Slayer shook her head, unwilling to say it. “But what, Slayer?” Spike pressed.

“You were nice,” she finally said. “I wanted to know if it was a fluke.”

“Dru’s nice to me,” he pointed out reasonably. “Only makes sense I’d be nice back, even if I wasn’t in love with her.”

“She dumped you,” Buffy replied.

Spike frowned, kicking at a stone on the ground. “Well, yeah.”

There was another long silence. Buffy decided that while she didn’t like Spike, it was nice to have company for patrol. And she had promised to look after him. “You wanna come with me tomorrow night?”

Spike thought of all the ways he could wind the Slayer up, which was always fun, and a lot more interesting than spending night after night alone in his crypt or dodging demons that wanted to kill him. “Alright.”

Both of them squashed the next thought that entered their heads. It was definitely not a date.


	7. The Eye of the Beholder

“So what do we know?” Lindsay demanded of the man they’d set to watch Drusilla.

The man known only as Jones shrugged. “Not much. That vampire isn’t going anywhere near her, and she’s staying mostly with the English guy.”

Lilah frowned. She had no idea what Lindsay was planning for either Drusilla or Angel, and he was refusing to tell her. It was really pissing her off. “I don’t see how that’s supposed to let us get to Angel, Lindsay. We wanted him dark. Drusilla staying elsewhere isn’t helping.”

Lindsay shook his head. “Haven’t you been listening, Lilah? Drusilla doesn’t want anything to do with Angel, and she was his greatest obsession. It’s going to drive him crazy that he can’t get to her.”

Lilah rolled her eyes. “He’s a hero, Lindsay. It might drive him crazy, but he’s not going to do anything about it.”

“Maybe not, but we can,” Lindsay replied. “What do you think Angel would do if someone went after her? Or if we drove her crazy again? He’d insist on protecting her, and that’s only going to get him into trouble.” The young lawyer looked back at Jones. “Keep watching her,” he ordered. “But make sure she knows she’s being watched. That should unsettle things.”

Of course, the funny thing about dealing with the paranormal on a daily basis is that you often forget to take it into account. No one at Wolfram &amp; Hart seemed to remember that Drusilla had her visions long before Angelus had come along. If they had, Lindsay and Lilah would have had very different plans for the woman.

Very different plans indeed.

~~~~~

Wesley had not lived with another person since he’d shared a room at the Watcher’s Academy, and that had been a very long time ago. In fact, he hadn’t shared a room at all his last year, since the Head Boy had a private room. He could therefore be excused for forgetting that he had a guest, especially a female one, when coming out of the bathroom fresh from the shower, with only a towel around his waist.

Wesley had been thinking quite intently about the rather knotty problem of exactly what one did with former vampires, and it slipped his mind that said ex-vampire was currently sharing quarters with him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Drusilla called out to him.

One hand over his heart, one hand desperately clutching the towel, Wesley stared at her. Drusilla looked as scared as he probably did. “I’m sorry,” he managed to gasp. “I—well, you startled me.”

“I’m sorry,” Drusilla said, watching him warily, as though he might strike out. Then her eyes started traveling downwards and Wesley’s hand gripped the towel even more tightly. “I just—where’s the tea, please?”

Wesley blinked. “I’ll show you. Just a minute. I just need—” He gestured helplessly at his half-clothed state with his free hand and darted off to the bedroom. Drusilla watched him leave and then giggled. It had been nice to see someone other than herself flustered for once.

Thinking of his bare chest brought another sort of pleasure that Drusilla didn’t linger over too long. Dru might be a good girl, but she wasn’t blind. Nor was she dead—at least not anymore.

Drusilla frowned. There was someone watching them. She drifted over to the window and flicked the curtain aside. The man was standing down on the street, and she could see him clearly. In more ways than one.

The smile that graced her face was not guileless, nor was it kind. Spike would have recognized it for what it was—the smile of a ruthless woman.

“Drusilla? Is something the matter?” Wesley called from behind her.

She turned to look at him. He was fully dressed now in jeans and a short sleeved shirt, watching her with a mixture of puzzlement and concern. “We’re being watched,” Drusilla replied, then giggled at her own pun. “Watchers are watching the Watcher.”

Wesley came to stand beside her at the window, immediately seeing who she was talking about. A light entered his eyes that the Slayer would not have recognized, but that Drusilla welcomed. “Perhaps I should go down and have a little chat with him.”

Drusilla shook her head. “It’s not necessary. There’s no harm, not yet. They will try to hurt me.”

There was no fear in her voice, a fact Wesley found quite remarkable. “I won’t let them.”

She met his eyes, then smiled. “No, you won’t.”

~~~~~

Spike stood on the Summers’ front porch, wondering what the hell he was doing there. He and Buffy had patrolled together three nights in a row, and it was—and he couldn’t believe he was even thinking this—fun.

It was one thing to kill his own kind; Spike realized that made him a traitor. At the same time, it wasn’t as though he was actually on the Slayer’s side. If she kicked it tomorrow, he’d dance on her grave with the rest of them. No, Spike hunted demons because he needed a spot of violence before bedtime the way an alcoholic needed liquor. It was an aching thirst that was never completely slaked.

It was something completely different when you accompanied the Slayer while she killed vampires and demons, and _enjoyed it_. That was the real kicker. Spike was enjoying Buffy’s company. It was ridiculous—a vampire even thinking about a Slayer in a friendly manner.

Spike had made a promise to Drusilla to look after the Slayer’s mother, however, and that was a promise he didn’t mind keeping. That’s what he told himself. By helping the Slayer, he was actually helping her mother, since Joyce would be devastated if something happened to Buffy.

Yeah, Spike didn’t buy it either.

“Spike?” Joyce smiled at him when she opened the door. “Come on in. Would you like something to drink?”

That’s what Spike appreciated about Joyce. She was always warm, always welcoming, and always had a cuppa for him. “Hot chocolate would be great,” he replied hopefully.

“Or blood?” Joyce offered.

Spike blinked. This was the first time he’d been offered blood. “Uh, sure. With little marshmallows?”

Joyce didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Of course.”

Spike followed her back into the kitchen, grabbing a seat at the kitchen island. “So, uh, is your daughter anywhere ‘round here?”

“She’s out with Willow tonight,” Joyce replied. “I don’t know when she’s going to be back. Was there something you needed?”

Spike wanted to ask if Buffy had said anything about patrolling with him, but he didn’t want to press his luck. Instead, he asked the other question that had been bothering him. “You heard from Dru at all?”

Joyce gave him a compassionate look. “I believe Wesley called yesterday to let us know that things were going well, but nothing more than that. Did you want to call her, Spike? If you wanted to use our phone—”

Spike cut her off with a shake of his head. “No, I was—just wonderin’ if she was alright, ‘s all. Don’t want to bother her.”

“I doubt you’d be ‘bothering’ her, Spike,” Joyce said gently. “Maybe she’d enjoy hearing from you. I’m sure she’d appreciate knowing you’re still thinking about her.”

Spike was afraid that if he even heard her voice, he’d be too tempted to take off and head to L.A., no matter what kind of promises he’d made. “Better to let her get settled in,” he replied. “Don’t want to disturb her or anythin’.”

Joyce couldn’t resist. She put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “It’s going to be just fine, Spike. I’m sure you’ll work things out.”

Spike glanced up at her, blue eyes vulnerable. There was no one else in the world he’d allow to see him like this, but Spike had always told his mother the truth. He treated Joyce no differently. With her, he was all boy—uncouth, perhaps, but a boy again nonetheless. “Not with Dru,” he admitted, the first time he’d said it out loud. “’s never gonna be like it was.”

“It never is,” Joyce said, thinking about her own failed marriage. “Sometimes you just grow apart, Spike. It’s not really anybody’s fault, but it happens.”

When she had suggested as much the first time he’d cried in his hot chocolate over Dru, Spike had denied even the possibility. Being immortal also meant that they were unchangeable. They were supposed to have had an eternal love, and it had somehow ended. They had—as Joyce suggested—grown apart.

“We weren’t supposed to change,” he said. “We were supposed to be forever.”

“I know,” Joyce replied gently. “Been there, done that.”

Spike looked at her, and a brightly mischievous glint entered his eyes. “He was a bloody wanker—if you’ll excuse the expression.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Joyce replied. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

~~~~~

Buffy hated to admit it, but she’d been disappointed to find Spike gone when she got to his crypt. It was wrong—sick and wrong. The vampire Slayer should not even be friendly with an evil, unsouled bloodsucker, and yet she found herself having to create a new label for Spike. Or, well, do away with labels altogether.

She was beginning to think that Spike didn’t have a box.

It was an uncomfortable feeling, indeed. If she had to rethink Spike’s position in relation to the universe, did that mean she had to rethink vampires in general?

Well, Buffy wasn’t the queen of denial for nothing. The Slayer simply told herself that Spike was the only vampire in the history of the world to have gotten a chip in his head, and that made all the difference. After all, if he hadn’t had the chip, Spike would have turned Drusilla immediately, rather than waiting.

Yeah, Buffy didn’t really buy it either.

She felt that Spike’s treatment of Drusilla had unseated her world from its axis. She preferred her world to be completely stable. Buffy preferred stability. It would be easier if she just avoided Spike, and all associated thoughts of the chipped menace, from now on.

Of course, that would mean losing her Slaying partner. She didn’t particularly want to lose the one bright spot in an otherwise dull summer.

However her opinion of Spike might have changed over the last week or so, Buffy was still just a little shocked to arrive home and find her mom and Spike ensconced on the couch watching some old black and white flick. “Mom?”

“Oh, hello, sweetheart,” Joyce said absently, her eyes glued to the screen where Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant were involved in an intense conversation. “You want to watch the movie with Spike and me? We’ve got popcorn.”

The world had definitely become topsy-turvy.

~~~~~

Angel was moping, and Cordelia was rapidly getting fed up. There were still visions, still racing off to the rescue, but she was going nuts, where before things had felt almost normal. Now, Wesley stayed at his apartment a good bit of the time with Drusilla, leaving Cordy to handle Angel all by herself.

He was driving her insane.

“Are you sure she doesn’t want to see me?”

It was the fifth time Angel had asked that question. He was beginning to remind her of a five-year-old on a long car trip. “Angel, for the last time, give Drusilla a little space. She’ll come around when she’s ready and not before.”

“I just—I feel like I should be doing more, helping her through this,” Angel protested. “She’s alone in the world because of me. I’m the one that turned her, and Wolfram and Hart brought her back because of me.”

Cordy sighed. She did understand Angel’s guilt. She also wanted him to snap out of it. “Angel, there is nothing you can do. Accept it and move on.” Cordelia paused. “Although, if I was Drusilla, I could think of something you could do.”

Angel was ready to do anything to assuage his guilt. “What’s that?”

“Shopping. New clothes always help.”

“You think?” Angel looked thoughtful. “Dru always did like a new dress.”

“Absolutely,” Cordy said. “I’d be happy to take her tomorrow. I’m sure Wesley could use a break anyway.”

Angel started digging for his wallet. If he couldn’t do anything for Drusilla himself, he’d let Cordelia do it for him. “Okay,” he said, handing her the credit card. “Get her whatever she needs.”

The seer’s eyes lit up at the sight of the plastic. “Perfect.”

“And go ahead and get something for yourself,” Angel suggested. “For putting up with me still being here.”

Cordelia smiled at him. “Will do. And while we’re shopping, Wesley is going to help you find a new place.”

~~~~~

“_An Affair to Remember_?” Buffy asked, her voice squeaking slightly. They were sitting out on the back porch so Spike could have his smoke. “But why?”

Spike shrugged. He’d originally seen the film with Drusilla when it had first come out, and so he refused to be ashamed of it. “Your mum wanted to watch it.”

It was a perfectly reasonable response. It even made sense, in a weird sort of way. But seeing Spike lounging on the couch with her mother, eating popcorn and watching one of the sappiest romances ever made—

Buffy could swear that Spike got misty-eyed at the end of the movie too.

“Spike, that’s probably one of the most sentimental movies ever made. Why on earth would the Big Bad be watching it?”

“Your mum wanted to watch it,” he repeated patiently, as though speaking to a very small, very slow child. “Besides, there’s nothin’ unmanly ‘bout wishin’ for lasting love. Everybody wants that.”

Vampires weren’t supposed to care about lasting love, but Spike’s actions with Drusilla had already made Buffy a trifle suspicious of that theory. The Slayer finally plopped down on the step next to Spike, watching him warily as he smoked his cigarette. Spike, for his part, was trying not to get too nervous about the way she was watching him.

“What?” Spike demanded, unable to take it any longer.

“You really do like my mom.”

“Said I did, didn’t I?” Spike sighed. “She’s nice.”

“She hit you over the head with an ax.”

Spike’s eyes went dreamy. “Yeah, she did. Your mum’s got stones.”

Buffy made a disgusted face. “You _like_ my mother?”

“What?” Spike stared at her in horror. “No! Bloody hell, what made you think that?”

“You! You were talking about her like—like—ew!”

“Was not!” Spike glared at her. “Yeah, I like your mum. She’s nice. Maybe in another situation I’d be interested, but as it is, I just think she’s a decent person. You don’t meet too many of those.”

Buffy had to admit that much was true at least, and the real dismay on his face caused her to relax a trifle. “I don’t get you.”

“Well, same goes here,” Spike replied sullenly. “Slayers aren’t supposed to have friends and family, an’ you’ve got a whole gang of ‘em.”

“Well, vampires aren’t supposed to be able to love.”

“Who told you that?” Spike scoffed. “We can love. Get it a bit twisted sometimes, I s’pose, but we love just fine.”

“Angel—”

An emphatic eye-roll cut her off. “Slayer, Angelus was a bastard before and durin’ being a vampire. Don’t see how the soul has improved him all that much either.”

Buffy decided she didn’t want to go there. “Well, vampires aren’t supposed to be able to change anyway,” she stated, determined to win at least one argument with Spike.

“You might think that,” Spike replied. “But if you don’t change, you die, Slayer. You don’t adapt, you end up dust on the end of a stake.”

Their eyes met, enemy to enemy. Ally to ally. Friend to—friend? “Dru told me to look after your sister too,” Spike said after a long silence.

“I don’t have a sister,” Buffy said automatically. Then she sighed. “Drusilla said something about having a sister to me too. Something like she’d be the key to the whole thing, whatever that means.”

Spike was quiet, then said in a low voice. “She made me promise to stay here, you know. Said there’d be more blood shed if I didn’t. I was goin’ to leave town.”

“I know,” Buffy replied. “At least, I figured on the whole leaving town part. Why didn’t you go?”

“Because she was right.” Spike glanced over at her. “Don’t know what’s comin’, but I don’t think I’m supposed to be with her anymore.”

“Are you offering your services?”

Spike leered at her, although Buffy could detect the spark of mischief in his eyes that suggested he was trying to push her buttons. “You askin’ for ‘em?”

Buffy smiled sweetly. “I could always use more muscle, Spike. There shouldn’t be any trouble finding work for you.”

“Oh?”

“You can always take out the garbage.”


	8. Strange Relations

“Pastels, I think,” Cordelia said authoritatively. “Or bright colors. And you really should think about getting a tan.”

Drusilla eyed the shirt she held out dubiously. “You don’t think it’s too bright?”

“Are you kidding?” Cordy said. “I’m the queen of fashion. Go try it on.”

Cordelia was actually enjoying the shopping trip, not least because Drusilla was like a blank slate. She hadn’t the first clue what was in style, and she was thus willing to listen to any and all suggestions.

It had been easy enough to get Drusilla to come along. Cordelia had simply marched into Wesley’s apartment, insulted his décor, and announced that they were going shopping. She’d informed the ex-Watcher that he was in charge of getting Angel out of her apartment, and left. So, she and Drusilla had Angel’s convertible for the day, not to mention Angel’s credit card. Life didn’t get much better.

Cordelia watched, lips pursed, as the other woman came out of the dressing room, smoothing down the front of her shirt with nervous hands. “Do I look alright?”

Eyes narrowed, Cordy considered. She took her fashion very seriously. “That’s a really good shirt for you,” she finally decided. “I wouldn’t wear it, but you can get away with it for some reason. I think that’s a definite yes.”

Drusilla wasn’t so sure, although her concerns didn’t have much to do with the shirt. “Will D—Angel be angry? We’re spending a lot of money.”

Cordelia put her arm around Dru’s shoulders. “What you have to realize,” she began, “is that Angel will always feel guilty. How he decides to get rid of that guilt is completely up to him. Now, if he decides that buying a bunch of new clothes is the way to make himself feel better about driving you insane, who are we to argue?”

The logic of the argument was exquisite, and Drusilla was enough of a girl to appreciate it. Besides, while Buffy and Joyce had been kind enough to take her shopping to get some essentials, Drusilla still didn’t have much in the way of clothing. The opportunity to shop and get whatever she wanted was a balm to her spirit.

Everything might have been just fine had she not dropped a red shirt on the floor, where it puddled in a heap. To anyone else it was simply fabric, but in Drusilla’s mind it became a pool of blood—

_Angel was fighting, and he was going to kill the other man. The man’s severed hand already lay on the floor—_

_He was furious. They had taken her again, and Angel was furious because no one touched what was his. She was his. She always would be his—body and soul._

“Is something wrong?” It was the saleswoman talking, and Drusilla suddenly realized that she was in a clothing store, with Cordelia, and nothing she had seen had happened. Not right then, anyway.

Cordelia had no idea what had just happened, only that Drusilla had dropped a shirt and now she was white as a sheet and shaking. The other woman looked over at her pleadingly, and Cordy made the first excuse that came to mind. “We’re fine. My friend just dropped the shirt, and she felt bad, you know. It’s been a really long day.”

It was probably the lamest excuse ever, since it was just noon, but Cordelia decided that they’d had enough shopping for the day. In fact, it was probably time for lunch.

~~~~~

“How about this one?” Wesley asked. “It’s a basement apartment, which means you wouldn’t have to worry about the sun, and you’d probably have ready sewer access.”

Angel looked over the advertisement. “I don’t think so,” he said. “We need something that can double as an office.”

Wesley gave the vampire a dirty look. “Well, we won’t need an office if you don’t find something soon, because Cordelia will probably stake you.”

A deep sigh was all the response Wesley received, and so he kept looking. After a few minutes, Angel asked the question that he’d probably been dying to ask all morning. “How is she?”

“She’s fine, Angel. I think she’s adjusting better than we might have hoped, in fact.” Wesley kept his nose in the paper. Cordelia had made it very clear what he was supposed to accomplish by being here. He had decided that it would be best not to tell Angel that Wolfram &amp; Hart was watching them. The vampire wouldn’t be able to do anything about it—or if he did, it would be something rather unpleasant. For now, Wesley believed himself capable of handling matters.

“I just—” Angel frowned. “I’m being stupid about this.”

“Is that a question or a comment?” Wesley asked, having his own opinion on the matter.

“I just want to help.”

“You are helping,” Wesley said. Then, muttering under his breath, he added, “Of course, you might do a better job of it.”

“I heard that.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Angel glared at his friend. “Fine. What would you suggest?”

“Finding another place to live and getting on with the business of helping the helpless.” Wesley met Angel’s eyes, his face uncharacteristically grim. “Angel, whatever Drusilla’s presence may have changed, you are still serving the Powers That Be. You still have the Shanshu prophecy to think of. Drusilla has been around for a long time, and she is doing quite well without you. So perhaps you can focus on what’s really important, like finding a new place.”

Angel was silent. “What other options are there?”

Even though the vampire sounded sullen, Wesley was relieved that they might actually be able to make some headway.

At least he hoped so.

~~~~~

Cordelia watched Drusilla pick at the salad she’d ordered. She wasn’t eating much, and Cordy had to wonder how Wesley was feeding her. Last she’d seen, he wasn’t much of a cook. She felt a stab of guilt. She really had left the ex-Watcher to his own devices with Drusilla, and it wasn’t as though he was particularly prepared for taking care of a crazy person. She was surprised he hadn’t gone crazy himself.

“So you want to tell me what happened in there?” she finally asked.

Drusilla looked up, startled and guilty. “It was—it was nothing.”

“Please,” Cordelia said. “I might be the queen of fashion, but I’m also the queen of bull.” Her tone suddenly gentled. “Was it a vision?”

The guilt on Drusilla’s face intensified. “I saw Angel, and he’d cut off a man’s hand.”

“That would be Lindsay,” Cordelia said confidently. “He’s one of the guys that brought you back.”

Drusilla breathed a sigh of relief, finally realizing why he’d looked so familiar. “And then I saw Angel again, and he was angry because someone had taken me, and he was going to get me back.”

Cordelia didn’t like the sound of that. Kidnapping was never good. “Just because you saw it, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. I get visions all the time, and the whole point is prevention of mass destruction.”

Dru shook her head, not entirely convinced. “But I see them, and I’m not supposed to. I try not to.”

“I would have given anything at one point to get rid of these things,” Cordy said sympathetically. “I mean, who wants to get migraines and see demons eating people anyway? But then I realized that I could do some good.” When Drusilla appeared doubtful, she spoke a little more forcefully. “Look, not to be insensitive or anything, but you’ve done a lot of damage. Maybe you keeping the visions is a way to make up for it. You could help people.”

Drusilla swallowed hard. She’d been trying not to think about that—trying not to think of all the blood she’d spilt, because the madness threatened to pull her under again. Like it threatened to do right now.

With an effort of will, Drusilla pulled her eyes up from her plate to meet Cordy’s. It was time to join the world again.

~~~~~

Spike had never particularly cared for the Bronze. As far as clubs went, it was pretty small-time, catering to the younger population. He preferred something a little more—adult. The options were limited in Sunnydale, however, and so he made do.

He’d come in for a drink and to get out of the crypt for a while, feeling the need for a distraction from his own thoughts. If he wasn’t wondering about Drusilla, he was thinking about the Slayer, and Spike was tired of both.

Of course, it figured that Buffy was at the Bronze with her friends. Spike couldn’t get away from her to save his unlife.

Not that he wanted to get away from her, really. It just would have been nice to have a break.

Even so, since he was there, and she was there, it only made sense for him to go over and say hello. Besides, the Slayer and her friends had a table, and there weren’t any others open.

“Slayer.”

“Spike!” Buffy looked startled, as though she wasn’t expecting to see him. Compared to the greeting the Slayer had offered the past few days, tonight’s reception was downright chilly. “What are you doing here?”

He held up his bottle of beer in response to her question, raising an eyebrow to let her now how idiotic he thought it. “Just out for the evening. You?”

“Hanging with the living for once,” Xander said, interrupting whatever Buffy might have said in response. “So why don’t you go find somebody else to bug?”

“You have a free chair,” Spike pointed out. “Otherwise I might.”

Xander drew the chair closer to him with a foot. “We’re saving it.”

“For who?”

There was a moment of silence since Buffy, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara were all there. Spike couldn’t think of one other person that might be joining them, except perhaps for Giles, and he knew that wasn’t likely. When the silence stretched on, and Xander looked no more likely to allow Spike to sit, the vampire glanced over at Buffy waiting to see what she would say.

Buffy refused to meet his eyes. “Well, you know, one of our friends from school said they might show up.”

It was a bold-faced lie. Spike could smell it, and he had a very good nose for that sort of thing. If Buffy had done it only a few days before, Spike would have shrugged it off and walked away. Called her a tight-assed bint and reminded himself that it was just one of many reasons to hate the Slayer.

Instead, it hurt—hurt more than it was supposed to. He was the Big Bad. Spike knew he wasn’t supposed to regard Buffy’s actions as a betrayal, but he did. That’s what it felt like, and Spike usually went with his emotions.

“Right then. Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your little reunion,” he said, his voice tight with a hurt he was trying to hide. “See you around, Slayer.”

Spike made sure his swagger was firmly in place as he walked away, slamming his bottle back quickly. It wouldn’t be enough to get him drunk, of course, but that wasn’t his goal anyway. He thought maybe it was time to go kill something.

~~~~~

Buffy watched Spike’s back, recognizing the tension in his shoulders for what it was, and feeling absurdly guilty. After all, this was Spike they were talking about. He might be marginally helpful on patrol, and sure he was nice to her mother, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an evil vampire. And it certainly didn’t mean that she had to include him in everything she did.

The problem—and where the real guilt came in—was that Buffy honestly wouldn’t have minded if Spike joined them. The other girls probably wouldn’t have cared either. Willow, Tara, and Anya had worn looks of mild interest. It was only Xander who would have had a major problem with it.

And Buffy didn’t want to explain to Xander why she was allowing an unsouled vampire to hang out with them.

“Can you believe him?” Xander demanded, once Spike had disappeared back into the crowd. “He thought we’d actually let him sit with us.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Xander,” Willow said. “Spike could have sat there if he wanted.”

Her friend stared at her in disbelief. “Since when did you get on the pro-Spike bandwagon?”

“I’m not!” Willow replied. “I’m just saying that it’s crowded in here tonight, and it wouldn’t have hurt anybody to let Spike take that seat. No one else is using it.”

“No,” Xander said patiently, as though speaking to a particularly slow child. “But if Spike was there, that would prevent a more well-deserving person from sitting. As in, someone who actually was a person.”

“You know, I think I’m going to go patrol,” Buffy announced, standing. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She was having mildly friendly feelings for Spike, and hearing Xander talk like that just made her feel guilty. And angry. It made her feel as though she was collaborating with a bully, and Buffy had never been one for bullying.

Unless it was Spike. And that just made her feel even more guilty. Which again, was absurd, because he was evil and deserved whatever came to him.

_Then why don’t you just stake him?_ asked the little voice in the back of her head.

“But you said you didn’t think you needed to patrol tonight!” Xander protested. “You were going to hang with us.”

Buffy didn’t bother telling him that it would have been easier to stay if Spike had been there. She wouldn’t have felt quite so much like the fifth wheel then. “Yeah, but you know those pesky vamps,” the Slayer said cheerfully. “They just keep popping up.”

“Yeah, you should go take care of that,” Willow said knowingly.

The Slayer shot her friend a look. “There’s nothing like that going on.”

“Like what going on?” Xander asked.

“Xander, shut up,” Anya advised him. “You’re pushing it.”

“Pushing what?”

“Buttons.” Anya stood and grabbed his hand. “I want to dance now.”

When the couple was on the dance floor, Willow leaned in closer to Buffy and said, “Don’t tell me you don’t have some friendly feelings for Spike.”

“I don’t!” Buffy replied heatedly. Then, quietly, she said, “Okay, so I don’t hate him quite as much. He’s been really helpful lately. But that doesn’t mean I want to be best friends!”

“No, just that you didn’t really want to lie to him.” Willow was wearing her resolve face, and as bad a liar as Buffy was normally, there was no way she could lie to the resolve face.

Buffy sighed. “It wouldn’t have killed Xander to let him sit at our table.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “But would it have killed you to tell the truth?”

~~~~~

It was a very good question, and one that wouldn’t leave her alone as she patrolled. Buffy knew that Willow made a good point, and it only made it worse that the witch said she wouldn’t have minded at all if Spike joined them. “He can be nice,” Willow had said. “Not always, but sometimes, and he did take care of Drusilla.”

“I kind of like him,” had been Tara’s quiet opinion. She hadn’t said anything up to that point, but now she spoke up. “I-I think it m-might have hurt his f-feelings.”

Like that helped Buffy feel better.

There really weren’t any demons or vampires out, which was the entire reason she’d decided that patrolling wasn’t necessary. She’d wanted some time with her friends, and that didn’t include evil vampires.

Buffy heard him before she saw him. There were the sounds of fists on flesh, grunts and cries of pain, proving once again that Spike could find trouble wherever it might be. “And it’s the Slayer to the rescue again,” she muttered.

Spike was holding his own against three vampires, and Buffy paused to appreciate his fighting style. The vampire really was grace incarnate. In another moment, she was right in the middle of it all with him, and they were fighting back to back. “Did you get bored with all your little friends, Slayer?” Spike asked, a definite snarl in his voice.

“No, I just figured you were probably out trying to get yourself killed.” She grunted as one of the vamps got a blow in to her face. The trio weren’t mere fledglings, that was for sure. They were both skilled and graceful, and Buffy had the feeling that while she and Spike together would have no trouble dusting them, either one of them on their own would have been hard-pressed.

Spike dusted one of the vamps, and whirled to face her. “I can take care of myself!”

“Well, excuse me for caring!” Buffy shot back, dusting another vamp. She and Spike got the third at the same time. They were nose to nose now.

“Didn’t think you did,” Spike replied, a thick coating of anger over his words. “You couldn’t even be bothered to let me sit at your table.”

Buffy glared at him, although the flush in her cheeks gave her away. “Well, you know, our friend might have shown up.”

“What was the friend’s name?” Spike challenged.

She had to think about it too long. Spike turned to walk away. “Spike! Don’t be like this!”

“Like what?” Spike called over his shoulder. “Like an undead, evil thing? ‘s what I am.”

Buffy watched him go with a sinking feeling in her stomach, and hating it. She hated that she felt guilty, and she hated that it mattered.

Unfortunately, Buffy couldn’t quite convince herself that she still hated Spike.


	9. Visions of an Unfinished Life

Drusilla didn’t sleep much that night, thinking about what Cordelia had said, about what might come next. She had chosen to come to L.A. because of what she knew was coming. She had believed that it would be best for her to be out of Sunnydale and away from Spike.

She still believed that she had done the right thing, but now she was asking herself what came next. This was a different world she lived in now. Long ago, when she had been human the first time, there had always been someone looking after her. After Angelus had turned her, there had been him and Darla, and then Spike. To a certain extent, Drusilla found the idea of looking after herself, of actually making her mark on the world, frightening.

And exhilarating.

Drusilla left the bedroom in the early dawn hours, tired of tossing and turning. Wesley lay sprawled out on the couch, an open book face-down on his chest. With a small smile, she picked it up, then took the afghan off the back of the couch and spread it over him.

He woke for a moment, sleepy eyes focusing on her with difficulty. “Drusilla? Is everything—”

“Just wanted some tea,” she assured him quietly. “Go back to sleep. It’s early yet.”

He murmured something she didn’t catch and drifted back down to sleep. Drusilla walked over to one of the few windows in the apartment, looking out at the fire escape. There really wasn’t much to see, but she wasn’t really interested in what was outside.

She was looking within.

After a while, Drusilla glanced back over at Wesley, who was now deeply asleep again, and she made a quick decision. While she knew that the ex-Watcher probably would accompany her if asked, Drusilla felt the need to do this by herself.

It was time she learned to stand on her own two feet.

~~~~~

Spike didn’t want to see Buffy. At all. He found her too confusing. One minute they were friends, and the next she was back to treating him like he was nothing. Oh, Spike understood exactly what had happened. She didn’t want anyone to know that she wasn’t treating him like dirt all the time now.

Well, he was done. He would go back to watching _Passions_ and hunting demons by himself when he needed a spot of violence. He’d check in on Joyce every once in a while to make sure she was okay, and he would forget that Drusilla had ever come to town or that anything between him and the Slayer had been different.

They were mortal enemies, and that was that.

Spike wished that there was someone he could talk to about all this, but the only person he could think of was Joyce, and it was her daughter he’d be complaining about. Somehow that didn’t seem right. Still, there was always the pleasure of her company, and Joyce never pretended that their relationship—whatever it might be—didn’t exist.

Which was why Spike found himself on her doorstep again. He found himself relaxing as she talked about the gallery and her plans for the exhibits. There had been several mix-ups in delivery schedules that had caused her some frustration.

Spike just listened. If he couldn’t talk about his problems, listening to Joyce was the next best thing. It prevented more ruminating over Drusilla and the Slayer, and it gave him some company.

“Are you certain you don’t want Drusilla’s phone number?” Joyce asked after a while, deciding she’d talked Spike’s ear off enough. “I could give it to you.”

Spike hesitated. Maybe he should call and just see how she was doing. That wouldn’t be so bad. “Yeah, that would be okay, I guess.” He stared at the thin layer of sugar the melted marshmallows had left on the surface of his hot chocolate.

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” Joyce asked with a smile.

He shrugged. “Not really. There isn’t anythin’ you can do about it anyway.”

“Sometimes it just helps to talk about it,” Joyce pointed out.

“Not this time,” Spike replied. “’s just—” He stopped, abruptly, deciding against saying anything about what had happened the previous night. “You know, I was wonderin’ somethin’.”

Joyce knew he was changing the subject and decided to allow it. “What’s that?”

“Well, somethin’ Dru said to me made me wonder if—” The sound of the front door opening caught him off guard, and Spike immediately stood.

“Mom?”

“I should go,” he muttered. “Thanks for the drink.”

Joyce frowned. “You don’t have to leave.”

“Yeah, actually, I do,” Spike said. “’ve stayed too long already. See you.”

Joyce watched as he practically fled out the back door, leaving his mug still half-full. Buffy came into the kitchen a few seconds later, looking around expectantly. “Hey, Mom. Was someone back here with you?”

“Spike was,” she replied, giving her daughter a look that Buffy recognized all too well. “Why is he avoiding you, Buffy?”

“How should I know?” the Slayer asked defensively. “Why does Spike do anything?”

Joyce gave her a rather pointed look. “Buffy, this has been a very difficult time for him. You might try being a little nicer.”

It was the last straw. The little niggling sense of guilt from the previous night, plus a mom-generated guilt trip resulted in an exasperated Buffy. “Why?” she demanded. “He’s a vampire, Mom. An evil vampire. Why should it matter how I treat him?”

Her mother was not impressed by Buffy’s argument. “Because it matters. Buffy, didn’t I teach you that you ought to treat others the way you’d want to be treated?”

“But that doesn’t extend to vampires and demons!” she protested.

“Doesn’t it?” Joyce responded. “Tell me. If you were Spike, and you couldn’t hurt anybody, wouldn’t you want someone to be nice to you? I think he’s lonely, and it wouldn’t hurt you to be friendly.”

Buffy couldn’t think of a good counter-argument, which annoyed her to no end.

Of course, this was what mothers did. She could still remember the really annoying girl her mother had forced her to invite to her tenth birthday party, just because she’d invited all the other girls in her class. She’d learned to have smaller parties after that.

Now her mom had decided that Spike was the equivalent of the kid that never got invited (usually for very good reasons), and so Buffy was going to get the guilt trip from hell until she started including him.

“I’ll think about it,” the Slayer replied, which was all she was prepared to promise at this point. No matter how good Spike was at watching her back.

Joyce just smiled. “Good,” she replied, knowing very well that she already had her daughter on the ropes.

~~~~~

It hadn’t taken Drusilla long to find the church. In a city like Los Angeles, they were virtually everywhere.

Of course, she’d also taken the time to look it up in the phone book.

Sitting in one of the pews, she felt a sense of peace washing over her. Drusilla had loved the Masses she had attended with her family, loved the sound of the Latin as it was read. Even when the visions had tormented her with the idea that she was somehow evil, Dru had held on to the idea that someday she would be good enough.

She knew she probably shouldn’t have been able to find peace here. Not only did the visions mark her as different, but it was in a sanctuary such as this one where Angelus had committed the ultimate act of desecration. It was in a sanctuary such as this that she had met her doom.

Even so, Drusilla realized now that evil was everywhere, within and without. Whatever she might have believed back then, Cordelia was perhaps correct when she said that the visions could be viewed as a gift.

“May I help you, my dear?” An elderly priest smiled at her from behind thick-framed glasses.

Drusilla shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I just came to—” What had she come to do? She could hardly remember now.

He sat down next to her. “If you don’t mind me intruding, you looked a little lost.”

“I suppose I am,” she replied, though her calm tone was in direct contrast to her words. “I’m not sure where I’m going.” Drusilla knew better than to tell him about her visions, or her past. People these days did not believe in such things, even those who should. “I’ve been ill for such a long time, you see, and now I don’t know what to do.”

He patted her hand comfortingly. “Then perhaps you should simply thank God for a second chance and be happy you have it.”

It was a platitude, but it rang true for her. It was much like what Cordelia had suggested the previous day. She should accept the gift that had been given and do what she could with it. “Thank you, Father.”

“Are you certain there isn’t anything I could do for you?” he asked. “If you wanted me to hear your confession—”

Drusilla shuddered, and then shook her head. There were some things that should not be spoken aloud. “No, I don’t think so,” she replied. And then she thought better of it. “There is one thing you could do for me.”

“What is that?”

“There is a man following me,” Drusilla said quietly. “He’s been stalking me for a few days now. If you could call the police—” She allowed a little fear to filter into her voice, although she knew exactly what she was doing. “I would rather not go back out there until he’s gone.”

She nodded when the old priest told her to stay right where she was. Drusilla smiled as he hurried away to check that what she had said was true and to call the police. If she was going to help, Drusilla knew she would have to start at the beginning—with Wolfram and Hart.

~~~~~

Spike did not often dream. At least, he didn’t remember his dreams. When he did, however, they usually involved blood and violence—in the best possible way. So he was not used to nightmares, especially not this sort.

He’d found himself in the alley behind the Bronze, and the Slayer was there. They were arguing over something—which wasn’t anything new—but then Spike had felt the change in the air. Had watched as they got closer and closer to one another, until there was no space at all between their bodies. Spike could literally feel the Slayer’s breath on his lips, and for one moment he thought they were going to kiss.

It wasn’t the first time Spike had dreamed of something like that, although typically the dream had ended with them shagging and him draining her dry. The Slayer was—stimulating, and he was still a male, even if he was undead, so it only made sense.

This dream, however, had not ended with them having sex. It had ended with the Slayer shoving him back against the wall and saying the three words that Spike hated the most. “You’re beneath me.” It was a replay of the worst—and best—night of his life, and the sense of loss he had when Buffy said those words told him everything he needed to know about his feelings for the Slayer.

There was only one thing to do after a dream like that.

He was on his way through the third bottle of whiskey when Buffy showed up. Spike was so angry with her—both Buffy and dream-Buffy at that point—that he threw the bottle at her. Which, of course, resulted in a chip-induced migraine.

“What was that for?” Buffy demanded, hands on hips.

Spike, who felt as though his brain had just been fried, glared at her. “That’s for bein’ a bitch!”

He really should have seen the fist coming. His nose joined the list of things-that-hurt. “_That’s_ me being a bitch,” Buffy replied snidely. She glanced around his crypt. “Geez, Spike. It’s a mess in here.”

“Go to hell,” he suggested.

“I think that’s your destination.”

“You first.”

They glared at one another, neither ready to back down. “What the hell do you want?” Spike finally asked as the first to look away.

“I just—well, I was going to ask if you wanted to patrol with me, but you’re in no condition to go out,” Buffy replied, looking him up and down, and feeling a _very_ small amount of sympathy. “You look like crap.”

He grunted. “Yeah, and you have stupid hair.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Buffy asked, amused rather than insulted.

Spike turned his back. “Right now it is. Come back later an’ I’m sure I’ll think of somethin’ a little more stinging.”

Buffy stared at his back and sighed. “I’m sorry I lied to you the other night, Spike.”

She was gone by the time he had shaken off his amazement enough to turn around. “Bloody hell,” Spike finally muttered. “’m never gonna figure that crazy bint out.”

~~~~~

When Drusilla returned to the flat, she found an irate ex-Watcher. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

“I was just out,” she replied, wondering why he was so upset.

Wesley glared at her. “Did it occur to you to leave a note? I had no idea where you were or if something had happened to you.” He gestured at the window. “The man who was watching us was gone!”

She shrugged carelessly. “The police took him.”

Wesley blinked and then sank down on the couch. He had no idea if Drusilla’s little outing was a product of her madness or her sanity, and he wasn’t sure what to say in response. “Why did the police take him?”

“The priest called them,” Drusilla replied, then sat down on the couch next to him. “I’m sorry you were worried.”

Wesley sighed. “It’s fine. It’s just—with Wolfram &amp; Hart watching, and not knowing what they want, I was thinking the worst.”

Drusilla hadn’t thought of that. “I’m sorry.”

Wesley was quiet. “We’re going to have to tell Angel about this, you know. You don’t have to come with me, but I’m not sure it’s wise to leave you by yourself.” He met her eyes, saying softly, “You understand why it’s dangerous, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Drusilla responded. “You’ll look after me, though.”

Wesley smiled. It was always nice when a person had that much faith in your abilities. “Yes, but I think we need to go see Angel today. Will you be alright?”

Drusilla nodded firmly. “Yes. I want to help.”

Wesley reached over and squeezed her had, feeling greatly daring. “I’ll be right there the entire time.”

It was time to face her demons.


	10. Demons Within, Demons Without

“Promise me you aren’t going to do anything stupid,” Cordelia said.

Angel looked hurt. “What are you talking about?”

Cordy narrowed her eyes. “Drusilla is doing really well right now, but the only reason she’s coming over is because Wes is nervous about leaving her alone. So don’t upset her.”

“How would I upset her?”

“I don’t know, Angel,” Cordy said, exasperated. “Probably just by being you, because that’s all it’s taking for me these days.”

His hurt expression deepened. “I’m looking for my own place, Cordelia.”

She stared at him for a moment and then relented slightly. “I know you’re trying, Angel, but—” Cordelia sighed. “Never mind. Just—be careful with her, okay?”

Angel might have made a slightly snippy reply to that—he had planned on being careful with Dru—but Wesley walked in with the girl in question.

Drusilla, for her part, was highly agitated. She pressed herself close to Wesley, bracing for the sight of Angel. While she still felt the memories and the madness threatening, the ex-Watcher’s warm hand on her back anchored her.

Dru watched as Angel took a tentative step towards her, and she took a step back, moving even closer to Wesley. “Angel, why don’t you get Drusilla something to drink?” Cordelia suggested. “Dru, I don’t know if Wesley told you, but I have a ghost. His name is Dennis.”

There was a flash, and Drusilla saw in her mind a sweet-faced young man being walled in by his mother. “Hello, Dennis.”

She felt a slight breeze by her face and was strangely comforted. Dennis had a nice feel to him. “Uh, Dru? Do you want some tea?”

Drusilla looked at Angel, who was holding out a steaming mug, and for the first time she really saw him. He had changed.

The soul seemed to glow, and she could see the demon it held in check. There was a kindness in Angel’s face and eyes that there hadn’t been before—when he had been her Sire. This wasn’t the same demon who had damned her.

Perhaps she would never be easy in his presence, but it was easier to look at him. “Please.”

He handed her the mug and their fingers brushed.

_Spike was unable to fend off his attackers because they were human. Men in black, prepared to deal with a vampire, especially one with a chip._

_They were going to use him to get to her._

The mug fell and shattered, and Drusilla cried out as she was splashed by the steaming liquid. “Angel!” Cordelia cried.

“What?” the vampire protested. “I didn’t do anything!”

Drusilla shook her head. “My poor lamb,” she mumbled. “I’m causing him pain even now.”

Angel frowned. “What is it, Dru?” Even though he’d never been the best at deciphering her cryptic speeches, there were times when it became clear to him. “What about Spike?”

“They want him,” she said. Her eyes bore into Angel’s. “You mustn’t let them have him. It’s important. The lawyers want me again.”

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “Damn.” He didn’t like Spike—but that didn’t change the fact that Angel couldn’t allow Wolfram and Hart to get their greedy little hands on another vampire from his line. He had no idea what the lawyers might want with Spike, but if they had been watching Dru, it was entirely possible that they were planning on going after both Dru and Spike.

Angel had to wonder if they weren’t planning on using Spike to turn Drusilla, and if that was the case, how it was they didn’t know that Spike had already refused.

~~~~~

“How did this happen?” Holland Manners asked Lindsay. “I gave you the opportunity to correct your mistake, and instead you have one of our best people arrested.”

Lindsay frowned. “I didn’t have him arrested. Someone called the cops because Drusilla said he was stalking her. She was supposed to be too unnerved to do anything.”

“Obviously she wasn’t,” Holland replied, leaning back in his chair in the conference room. He shook his head. “Lindsay, I realize that you want to succeed on this project. It’s imperative that we find a way to influence Angel. I don’t think I need to tell you how important Darla was to our overall plans. However, with the return of the wrong vampire, we thought to give you the chance to prove yourself again.”

“I can and I will,” Lindsay replied. “I just need a little time—”

Holland shook his head. “Time’s up, Lindsay. Drusilla has apparently made amends with Angel, and is with him and his friends right now. Now, there is another vampire who might be willing to turn her. It’s our belief that it was his plan, and that Angel arrived before he could carry it out. I want you to go down to Sunnydale and retrieve him. I’ve put Lilah in charge of getting Drusilla back. With any luck, we’ll have a way to get to Angel soon. Drusilla was, after all, his greatest obsession.”

Lindsay scowled. He didn’t like the thought of Lilah intruding on his territory, or having Holland inform him of what he was going to do. There was continually the vague sensation that he was missing something, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. He’d hoped to have a chance to go back over the records they had on Drusilla, but it looked as though that would have to be postponed. “I’ll get him,” he promised.

“You’d better,” Holland replied. “Otherwise, the Senior Partners are going to be very unhappy.”

~~~~~

Spike had absolutely no idea why he was waiting around for Buffy. He hated her. Whatever slightly less antagonistic feelings he might have had were completely eclipsed by his anger at her for lying to him.

Except that she’d apologized, which made it marginally better.

That and he didn’t really hate her. The dream had proven that much.

Spike still had a reputation to maintain, however, so he tried to keep the eagerness off his face when she walked into his crypt. “Slayer.”

“You ready?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Hello to you too.”

Buffy sighed. “Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” She apologized off-handedly, much as she might have done with one of her friends. “We really do need to get going. I promised Giles we would meet him at his place.”

Spike, almost in spite of himself, fell in beside her. “You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?”

Buffy gave him a look. “You can survive Giles for a little while.”

“Maybe,” Spike replied, doubt creeping into his tone. “You never know.” They walked along in silence. “Want to tell me why we’re visiting your Watcher?”

Buffy was silent for a bit, and Spike was beginning to think she’d never respond. “Angel called.”

Spike’s face creased in concern. “Is it Dru? She alright?”

“Drusilla’s fine, Spike,” Buffy replied. “She’s still having visions or whatever though, and apparently she thinks something is going to happen to you.”

“Okay,” Spike said slowly. He wasn’t inclined to doubt Dru’s visions. She had an uncanny knack for predicting future events. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure what the point of going to the Watcher’s flat was. “So why are we goin’ to see the Watcher?”

Buffy frowned. “Mostly because he wanted to see me, and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be on your own right now. Apparently Drusilla’s vision included you getting attacked by humans, and there’s not much you can do if that happens.”

Spike did not like to be reminded of the limitations that the chip placed on him. It rankled him that he was completely unable to protect himself if he should be attacked by humans. It made him feel weak, and he hated feeling weak. “So what? You goin’ to watch my back?”

“Until we have a better idea of what’s going on, yes,” Buffy replied, still distracted. “According to Angel, it would be really bad to let those lawyers get their hands on you.”

Spike grabbed her arm. “There’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me.”

“They want you to turn Drusilla, apparently,” Buffy said, not moving away from his touch. They were close to Giles’ place now, and the Slayer wanted Spike to be as cooperative as possible. Not that Spike was ever truly cooperative, but he might be a little more willing to play along if he thought it was for Dru. “I don’t know, Spike. We don’t have a lot of details, but Angel seems to think these guys are pretty bad news.”

The vampire pulled back. “I can take care of myself.”

“Not this time.” It was Buffy’s turn to grab his arm. “Look, Spike, you didn’t turn Drusilla for a reason. I doubt you want to be forced to do it by a bunch of idiots in suits. If they send humans after you, there’s no way you could defend yourself.”

He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his duster. “I hate this.”

“I know.” The Slayer sounded almost sympathetic. “I know it sucks, Spike, but I think you ought to stick close until we find a way to stop them. I would really rather not have to rescue you.”

Spike grimaced. “So how are we goin’ to do this, Buffy?”

It was strange to have Spike call her by her first name, rather than one of his pet names or Slayer. Buffy found that hearing him say it did something to her insides it shouldn’t have. “First we go see Giles and get the sitch in L.A.,” she replied. “Then we patrol and you come back to my place. Mom’s already getting the basement ready for you.”

Spike stopped cold. “Excuse me?”

Buffy looked at him over her shoulder. “The choices are my place, Giles’ apartment, or Xander’s basement. I took a wild guess as to which one you’d prefer.”

She kept going and Spike hurried to catch up. “You’re lettin’ me stay with you.”

“Technically, Mom is letting you stay. I’m doing my best to save the world.”

Spike wasn’t sure if he should be warmed by the fact that that Joyce wanted him to stay at her house or if he should be insulted that the Slayer had to look after him. Again.

On the other hand, she was right—as much as it pained him to admit it. If the lawyers came after him, chances were he’d be defenseless, and he would end up their pawn. Spike never wanted to be at anyone’s mercy again.

Except perhaps Buffy’s. Spike could think of several things he’d let Buffy do to him.

“Look, Slayer—” Spike paused. Showing gratitude went completely against the grain. He was still evil, even if he wasn’t on a people-diet any longer. “Thanks.”

“I’m not doing this for you, Spike,” Buffy replied, the words sounding a little more harsh than she’d meant. At the expression on his face, she rephrased. “Okay, yes, I’m doing it for you. I’m also doing it for Drusilla, though. She doesn’t need anybody else messing with her head. There’s been enough of that already.”

Spike’s face changed in that moment, softened slightly. It meant more to him that Buffy would be doing this to help Drusilla than himself. “Thanks, Buffy.”

Buffy paused, staring at him. “You’re welcome.”

The tentative connection that had been building solidified in that moment. They walked the rest of the way to Giles’ apartment in companionable silence.

~~~~~

“How much do we know, Giles?” Buffy asked. This was the first time the Scoobies had all been together for a meeting of this nature for a few weeks. They hadn’t had an emergency since Adam had been dealt with.

Giles was busy polishing his glasses. “Not much, I’m afraid. Apparently, Drusilla had a vision of operatives from Wolfram and Hart coming after Spike in order to have him turn her.” He glanced over at the vampire. “They obviously do not know that Spike has already had an opportunity and chose to do otherwise.”

“Don’t they know about the chip?” Willow asked.

Giles shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m not sure that anyone knows what Wolfram and Hart is or is not aware of. I would be willing to guess that they are not aware of Drusilla’s, er, gifts.”

“That could be to our advantage,” Buffy pointed out. “Drusilla seems to know a lot about what they’re doing. It could be fairly easy to stay one step ahead of them.”

Giles nodded. “Exactly my thought. That is why it is imperative that they not get their hands on Spike.”

Xander laughed. “So Willy-Wanna-Bite is gonna have to be protected again?”

“Shut up, Xander,” Buffy said. All eyes turned to her. “That’s not necessary. Spike’s staying at my house until we can clear this up.”

“Your house?” Xander looked like he was going to have an apoplexy. “Why does it have to be your house?”

“Why? Are you offering to let Spike stay with you?” Buffy asked sweetly.

Spike wasn’t sure exactly what was going on. The Slayer was almost—defending him? When the bloody hell had the world ended? He decided that it was about time to say something, however. “’m not stayin’ with Harris. Maybe Rupert, but ‘m not goin’ back to the basement. I’ll leave town first.”

“You’re not leaving town,” Buffy stated firmly.

Giles cleared his throat. “Buffy is correct. The Slayer’s house is the best choice at this point. Not only will it be unexpected, but there is more room. As long as Mrs. Summers is comfortable with it.”

“Spike and Mom have bonded,” Buffy said, smiling slyly at Spike. The vampire realized she was thinking about his watching _An Affair to Remember_ with Joyce, which while he wasn’t ashamed of it, he wasn’t prepared for the rest of the Scoobies to get wind of it. He did have a reputation to maintain, however.

“She keeps the little marshmallows around,” Spike exclaimed.

Tara and Willow exchanged looks. “What else do you think we should do, Giles?”

Giles turned to look at the red headed witch. “For now? I think simply keeping a sharp eye out is best. We do not know what Wolfram and Hart’s next move might be. They might have to scrap their plans. Hopefully if things change, Drusilla will be made aware of it through her visions.”

He turned to look at Buffy apologetically. “I do think it imperative that Spike not go out on his own. I would hate to think what might happen if they were to get their hands on him.”

“Oi!” Spike said sharply. “Sittin’ right here. An’ just because they nab me doesn’t mean I’ll do what they want. I already decided I wasn’t goin’ to turn her.”

“What if they offer to get the chip out?” Xander asked. “Would you really not turn her then?”

The quiet that fell reminded Xander that he might have spoken out of turn. If Spike hadn’t thought of the possibilities that working with Wolfram and Hart might offer, he had some idea now. Not to overlook the fact that Spike had betrayed them to Adam not that long ago.

“I didn’t turn her because she didn’t want it, Whelp,” Spike said very quietly, sounding more dangerous than he had in a long time. “Even if they could take the chip out, I wouldn’t help them. Not after what they did to Dru.”

Xander looked as though he might argue, but Buffy cut him off. “That’s enough, Xander. Giles is right, Spike. It would probably be better if you weren’t out on your own, for your own safety. We don’t know what they would do to you, or what they could do to you. From what Angel said, they have a lot of resources at their disposal. I’d rather not find out what they’re capable of.”

Spike nodded grudgingly. “Right then. Rather not have to find out myself.”

“Good,” Giles said, sounding relieved. “As long as we’re agreed. Spike will stick close to Buffy until we can determine what these lawyers are planning.”

The meeting broke up about that time, but Willow took a moment to grab Buffy’s arm. “So no fluffy feelings for Spike, huh?”

Buffy glared. “Of course not. I’m doing this for Drusilla. I kind of liked her.”

“Me too,” Willow said with a sly smile. “But I’m thinking you kinda like her ex too.”

The witch dashed away before Buffy could argue.

~~~~~

Spike looked around the Slayer’s basement with a sense of resignation. Ever since he’d gotten the blasted chip inside his head he hadn’t been his own man. His attempt to regain control over his own unlife had nearly ended with his dusty demise—first at Adam’s hands then at the Slayer’s. He knew he was bloody lucky Buffy hadn’t decided to stake him after that fiasco.

Spike should have known better than to trust Mr. Bits ‘n Pieces—he could see that now. One of the reasons he’d chosen to go to the Slayer in the first place after he’d gotten the chip was the good guys could generally be trusted to keep their word, even when they should go back on it.

Now it looked as though he was being jerked around again, this time by Wolfram and Hart. Spike couldn’t even go after them since they were all human. He didn’t have a prayer. It wasn’t fair in the least.

“So Mom set up the cot,” Buffy pointed out awkwardly for lack of anything better to say. “The basement never gets much direct sunlight, which is why we thought you might be better down here. She also said to tell you that it’s okay to smoke as long as you open the window.”

They were trying. Spike had to give them credit for that much at least. It wasn’t like the Slayer or Joyce had to take him in. They could have just staked him and have been done with it. He’d certainly be out of the lawyer’s power then. “Thanks.”

“There’s blood in the fridge,” Buffy continued. “And you know the TV’s upstairs.”

Spike nodded, not saying anything.

“If you need anything—” Buffy couldn’t believe she was even saying it, but she meant it. The expression on Spike’s face earlier, when she’d told him she was doing this for Drusilla’s sake and not his—it changed things. Whether she wanted it to or not. The fact that Spike still viewed Drusilla as more important than anything—even his own happiness—it softened her towards him.

It was hard to view someone as evil when they were trying to protect someone they loved, especially when that someone was no longer a vampire but an innocent.

“Thanks,” Spike repeated. There was a long pause, and Spike met her eyes. “You don’t have to do this,” he pointed out. “’ve been disappearin’ for a long time now, Slayer. Could do it just as easily this time.”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s too dangerous. And besides, I thought you promised Drusilla you’d stay in Sunnydale.”

“Promised to look after your mum, didn’t I?” Spike replied softly. That alone would have been enough to keep him in there. He didn’t have to say there was more. It was an unspoken truth.


	11. Changing Perspectives

Angel wasn’t particularly happy. Drusilla might be reasonably comfortable with him—at least comfortable enough to be in the same room—but she stuck close to either Wesley or Cordelia. It was obvious that she wasn’t going to be happy in his presence any time in the near future.

The vampire might have been able to handle that. He might have been able to chalk up her discomfort to trauma and then swallowed the guilt like bitter medicine. It was her continued worry over Spike that was driving him crazy. Not that he wanted Wolfram and Hart to get their hands on the chipped vampire. Angel hated to think what they might be able to do if they were able to convince Spike to go along with whatever they had planned.

Of course, Spike never had been one to play well with others. More likely, if they did get their hands on him, he would refuse to cooperate out of sheer obstinacy.

No, that wasn’t what was bothering Angel. It was the fact that Spike seemed higher in Drusilla’s affections than he was at the moment. Drusilla had always liked him better. Plus, when he’d spoken to Buffy, she had seemed sincerely concerned about Spike’s safety, and not solely out of fear of what the lawyers might do were they to get their hands on him. The Slayer was concerned for the vampire himself. That had chafed Angel even more.

Why Spike—who was still evil and didn’t have a soul—was getting any consideration at all from anyone bothered Angel immensely. It was, of course, possible that it rankled him that Spike wasn’t nearly as evil as Angelus. Angel knew that it would have taken more than a chip to leash the beast inside him. Spike, on the other hand, had put Drusilla’s needs before his own, which was something Angel was still having trouble doing, if he was to be completely honest with himself.

He watched from Cordelia’s couch as Wesley and Drusilla spoke in soft voices, the sound of occasional laughter coming from one or the other. They were talking about a movie that Wesley had rented for the both of them to watch the night before, and Angel found that he was jealous over their burgeoning relationship. It was obvious that Wesley was becoming besotted with Dru while she seemed to be blooming in the face of his attraction.

The crazy thing was that Angel could have seen this happening more than a hundred years ago, before he turned her. Wesley would have been just the sort of man Drusilla would have been attracted to, and vice versa. The ex-Watcher’s gentility was a sharp contrast to the obsession that Angelus had borne for the woman. Wesley could be trusted to be a gentleman, and Dru obviously loved the attention.

And while Angel really was trying to be happy for her, it still irked him.

“Blood?” Cordelia asked, handing Angel a mug.

“You didn’t put cinnamon in it again, did you?”

Cordy rolled her eyes. “You said you didn’t like it.”

“You didn’t put anything else in here?”

“No, it’s straight blood, just like you wanted.” Cordelia glanced over to Wesley and Drusilla. “You’re not brooding again are you?”

“Of course not,” he replied sulkily.

“You’d better not be,” she warned him. “Because it’s about time you snapped out of it. Just be happy that the very sight of you isn’t driving Drusilla crazy any longer.”

Angel sighed. “She looks happy doesn’t she? With Wes?”

Cordelia gave the pair a thoughtful look. “Huh. I hadn’t thought about it, but you’re right. Looks like Wesley has a crush on her.”

“You don’t find that at all odd?” Angel asked.

She thought about it. “No, not really. I mean, not that Wes isn’t a big dweeb, but Drusilla would probably like a dweeb, you know.”

Angel frowned. He hadn’t thought about it quite that way. “You think?”

“Well, sure,” Cordelia replied. “I mean, it’s not like Wesley is going to get fresh. Wes might drive me up the wall on occasion, but he’s definitely a gentleman.”

That had pretty much been Angel’s assessment of matters, although he hadn’t thought of Wes as a “dweeb” for a long time. In fact, Angel had been fairly impressed by the ex-Watcher as of late. The man had come a long way from the failure he’d been with the Watcher’s Council.

“You’re probably right,” Angel replied. “I don’t know why I’m worried.”

“You’re worried because we have no idea what Wolfram and Hart want with Drusilla. Not to mention if they get their hands on Spike we could have a real problem on our hands,” Cordelia pointed out practically. “It always manages to get messy with those guys involved.”

She had hit the nail on the head once again. “I think we might want to do something about that.”

“You aren’t going to do something stupid, like try to sneak into their offices, are you?” Cordelia asked, a note of panic in her voice. “You know that’s not going to do any good.”

“No, not that,” Angel said quietly. “But I think we do need to find some answers.”

~~~~~

Lindsay wasn’t very happy himself, which Angel probably wouldn’t have minded hearing. The lawyer had found himself stumped at every turn. When Lilah had sent her team to the Watcher’s apartment to collect Drusilla, both of them were gone. Apparently the ex-vampire had gotten over her fear enough to be around Angel.

Lindsay wasn’t quite ready to bring Angel into things. Right now all he wanted to do was to salvage his career. They would have to figure out how to use her to disturb Angel’s delicate equilibrium after they had Drusilla and Spike in custody.

Turning her shouldn’t have been a problem. Spike was rumored to have been her consort for over a hundred years. Their records indicated that William the Bloody had been captured by the Initiative and fitted with a behavior modification chip, which seemed more a boon than anything else. If they could guarantee Spike that they would remove the chip, Wolfram and Hart would then be possessed of both a pet vampire and a superior piece of technology.

Of course, that only worked if they could get their hands on both Drusilla and Spike. Drusilla seemed to be beyond their grasp for the moment, which left Spike.

And Spike seemed to be under the protection of the Slayer.

Lindsay had dealt with a Slayer before, and he couldn’t say that he’d relished the experience. Faith might have been a renegade, but hiring her had come back to bite them in the ass. This Buffy, on the other hand, was as straight as they came. There was no point in trying to buy her. Lindsay had no doubt that Angel had probably forewarned her about the law firm, which meant they had no chance of getting her to play their game.

It was probably why Spike was under her protection in the first place.

Lindsay sighed, leaning back in his chair and considering the information. There was something they were missing here. It seemed that Angel and his gang of do-gooders, along with Drusilla, were consistently one step ahead of them. It just wasn’t possible that it was by luck alone, which left only one option.

Somehow Angel was aware of Wolfram and Hart’s next moves before they made it. Lindsay didn’t believe that there was a mole within the firm. The occasional sweeps with the mind-readers were too thorough for that.

That left only one other option.

Lindsay decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. He needed all the information Wolfram and Hart had on Drusilla, because he had a feeling that she was more special than they had realized.

~~~~~

Buffy was feeling edgy. She’d seen the same black SUV drive slowly down her street more than once. She found it disturbing to know that the lawyers—or their people—were watching her house. It made it even more imperative that Spike shouldn’t be let out of her sight.

Of course, the vampire was down in the basement sleeping, so it wasn’t like she needed to have her eye on him constantly. The Slayer had to admit to being baffled as to how things had changed so quickly. A week or two ago she’d been quite comfortable with hating Spike. He’d been a nuisance—an annoying pest who would occasionally turn up while she patrolled, at which point they would engage in verbal sparring until she punched him in the nose.

Well, some things hadn’t changed.

What had changed was that Buffy no longer hated him. She wasn’t quite ready to confess that she liked him, but seeing him with Drusilla and her mom had changed her feelings towards him just slightly. Spike could apparently be nice when he wanted to be.

And when Spike was nice, it became a lot more difficult for Buffy to ignore what a hottie he was.

Buffy made a face in the silence of her house. If anyone found out that she was having even slightly lusty thoughts for Spike they’d probably lock her away in the nuthouse.

A sound from behind cause Buffy to turn, just in time to see Spike emerge from the basement, blinking sleepily in the afternoon sun. “You’re up early,” she commented.

He shrugged. “Don’t sleep too well these days. You said there was blood.”

“In the fridge.” Buffy watched as he meandered over to the fridge, pulling out the plastic tub full of the viscous red liquid.

“You got a mug, or should I drink it cold?”

The Slayer pulled a mug down from the cupboard silently, handing it to him. Spike gave her a wary look before starting to prepare his breakfast. Buffy just kept staring.

The vampire wasn’t wearing a shirt.

Pair Spike’s undressed state and stunning physique with Buffy’s marginally friendlier feelings and you ended up with a raging case of desire. Or maybe it was need. At this point, the Slayer honestly wasn’t sure. Even her silent self-admonition that he was still an evil vampire—even if a sexy evil vampire—wasn’t helping. Let’s just say that ever since Riley left, the Slayer really wasn’t getting any satisfaction.

There were definitely lusty thoughts involved.

“You got a problem, Slayer?” Spike finally demanded.

“No problem,” Buffy replied. “You could put a shirt on though.”

Spike sneered at her. “Am I offending your virgin eyes, Slayer?” Then his eyes narrowed as he realized exactly what the expression on her face was all about. “Or are you just too attracted to me for your own good?”

That question seemed to snap Buffy out of her lust-induced haze. “What? There is no attraction here. Me, Slayer. You, evil vampire. Why on earth would I be attracted to you?”

Buffy didn’t quite mean it to sound as harsh as it did. The statement was, after all, said more to convince herself than the evil vampire in question. Spike’s eyes darkened in anger. “You know, I wish you’d stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop makin’ me out to be worse than I am,” Spike snapped, suddenly feeling that his reputation could be damned. The Slayer calling him evil wouldn’t have irritated him quite so much if it wasn’t for the tone of voice she used while saying it. Her calling him an evil vampire was basically her way of calling him worthless. Spike was getting just a little tired of it.

Buffy glared. “I thought you were the one who was so proud of being evil in the first place.”

“Well, sure,” Spike said. “I’m a demon, pet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings, and it doesn’t mean you have the right to stomp all over me just because you’re a little horny. Far as I can tell, that’s your problem.”

Her mouth fell open. “This has nothing to do with my love life.”

“Or lack thereof?” Spike suggested snidely.

“I’ll have you know that I’m perfectly happy with where I am,” Buffy protested. “I’m fine alone.”

“Say it like you mean it,” he replied. “And until then, you can just stop bein’ so—”

“Don’t even say it,” Buffy warned. “Not unless you want to find yourself outside on such a nice, sunny day.”

With his chosen insult barred from use, Spike was reduced to glaring at her. “Fine. Think I’ll go watch some telly for a bit.”

Buffy watched him go, trying to convince herself that he didn’t have a point. In truth, this whole situation was confusing the hell out of her. She didn’t like Spike—except that she sort of did. He was kind of fun to take along on patrol, and he was the only one who could be relied upon to keep up—both physically and with her verbal quips. She found herself almost looking forward to their fights, except when he made comments like that.

Because she _was_ horny and Spike _was_ attractive. Just because he was evil didn’t mean he wasn’t physically gorgeous.

Buffy went upstairs to her room for a while, trying to ignore the silence that had fallen over the house, except for the sound of the television. She put on a CD, read a magazine, painted her toenails, all the while keenly aware that Spike was somewhere downstairs with his feelings hurt. Again. “Stupid sensitive vampire,” she muttered.

Of course, if she let him stew like that for too much longer, her mom would come home and immediately sense that something was wrong. At which point Joyce would remind Buffy that she had promised to be nice, and then Buffy would have to watch Spike get the stupid smirk on his face like he did every time Joyce defended him.

It was therefore merely self-defense that had her going downstairs and attempting to make peace, Buffy decided. It would save her the guilt trip her mom was sure to send her on if Spike was still sulking when Joyce got back from the gallery.

Spike had finally put on a shirt, and he was lounging in front of the TV, staring at the screen when she came into the living room. “What are you watching?”

He shrugged. “Somethin’ on lions. ‘s kind of interestin’. There’s really nothin’ else on.”

“What about _Passions_?” Buffy asked, remembering that he’d watched that every day at Giles, and had whined when he didn’t get to.

“’s over,” Spike replied. “You missed it.”

“Oh.” Buffy sat down in the chair and watched as a lion pulled down a wildebeast, thinking that Spike probably was wishing he could switch places with the big cat. “You know, about earlier—”

“Forget it.”

“Would you let me speak?”

Spike looked over at her, and Buffy could see an appalling lack of concern on his face. “Fine, Slayer. What do you want?”

“I just—” Buffy sighed. Who was she kidding? She and Spike were never going to have a real conversation, not one that was meaningful anyway. It wasn’t like she was actually going to admit that he was right. “It’s not you.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Oh, we’re doin’ the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, huh? Spare me.”

If it wasn’t for the carefully disguised hurt in his voice, Buffy would have gotten up and left right then. She was beginning to learn how to read his moods, though, and she thought she understood. Not that she wanted to put herself in Spike’s shoes—because she didn’t—but if she were to do so, Buffy could understand why the last couple weeks might have been hard on him. Having Drusilla come back as human, only to run away to L.A. with Angel and his crew, then having his unlife threatened by a bunch of lawyers he couldn’t defend himself against—it would have put her in a crappy mood too.

“I meant that if you weren’t an evil vampire, I might find you attractive,” Buffy said grudgingly. “But you are a vampire, and you don’t have a soul, and if you do get that chip out of your head—”

“’s not goin’ to happen,” Spike said glumly.

Buffy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, Slayer, the only people who could probably get the chip out are the government—and they won’t—and these lawyers, an’ I’m not havin’ anything to do with a bunch of people who screwed around with Dru so much. So let’s face it. Unless it breaks, it’s not comin’ out.”

“But it could break,” Buffy pointed out, cursing herself for actually sounding hopeful there for a minute. She didn’t want the chip to break of course, but Spike sounded so glum.

Spike laughed shortly. “Yeah, right. ‘m goin’ to be stuck like this for the rest of my unlife. Can’t defend myself, can’t feed, can’t do anything.”

“Well, I’m not going to say that the whole no feeding thing is bad, but I’m sorry you can’t defend yourself, Spike,” Buffy said, sounding sincere. It probably helped that she was sincere. When Spike looked over at her in surprise, Buffy laughed it off. “If you could defend yourself, you wouldn’t be staying here,” she pointed out.

“Oh, right,” he replied, his eyes going back to the TV screen.

In spite of herself, Buffy really did feel bad for the guy. It wasn’t his fault that Riley had left, or that she was feeling a little pissy, or that lawyers were after him. She did know what it was like to feel like you weren’t in control of your own destiny.

For some crazy reason, the Slayer suddenly found herself developing a certain unwelcome empathy for the vampire. “Spike—”

Her tone caught his attention, and Spike turned to look at her again, and he saw her sympathy for what it was, and not as pity. “Forget it, Slayer,” Spike replied, although this time there was no animosity in his tone. “’s just the way the chips fell, yeah?”

Buffy nodded slowly. Indeed, it was just the way the chips had fallen for both of them.


	12. Dreams That Speak

Lindsay finally found what he was looking for in the file on Angelus. It appeared that the vampire had become obsessed with a young innocent named Drusilla, and that she had a very special gift.

A very special gift indeed.

Lindsay was kicking himself for not having seen it before. They didn’t need to find a way to use Drusilla to get to Angel. They just needed Drusilla. Her visions, especially those that had to do with important future events could be invaluable to the firm, which is exactly what he told Holland Manners. The fact that Holland was thrilled with the news caused Lilah’s scowl to deepen even further.

“Excellent work, Lindsay,” Holland congratulated him. “That’s probably the reason Angel has been able to remain one step ahead of us. With Drusilla in our possession, we will have access to valuable information.”

“We don’t know that she’ll work for us,” Lilah objected. “She could decide to remain obstinate. And she’s crazy. We’ll have to take care of her. Personally, I think it would be a drain on Wolfram and Hart’s resources.”

Lindsay gave her a smug smile. “That’s why it’s not just Drusilla we need. The records indicate that William the Bloody was with her for over a hundred years. He took care of her, and apparently he understood her visions even when no one else did. We could still easily retrieve him from Sunnydale, just as we’d planned.”

“Very well thought out,” Holland stated. “If you’re correct, this William the Bloody will do anything in order to protect Drusilla, and if he’s incapable of harming humans, we shouldn’t have a difficult time controlling him.”

Lilah didn’t like the sound of things. It appeared as though Lindsay had come up with the perfect plan to get himself back in favor, something that she didn’t want to have happen. In fact, the worse Lindsay looked, the better Lilah would appear in contrast.

Holland continued. “Lilah, I want you to collect Drusilla. Lindsay, you can get Spike, just as we discussed. You’ll have to work around the Slayer, of course, but I’m sure an intelligent young man such as yourself will come up with a plan.”

Lindsay gave his co-worker a smug grin. “Oh, I’m sure.”

~~~~~

Wesley and Drusilla were headed back towards his apartment. He’d decided that he didn’t mind sharing space with the woman and had said as much to Angel. Wesley wasn’t certain that he was looking forward to the time when she would be living elsewhere.

He found her intriguing. It was a pale word compared to his growing feelings. Drusilla was beautiful, of course, but more than that she drew him with her strength. For someone to have gone through as much as she had—to be tortured by Angelus, to lose all her family, to be a vampire for so long, only to be killed and brought back as human—Wesley was as much in love with her strength as her beauty.

Her hand was tucked through his arm, and Wesley was pleased with the contact, however chaste. “I miss my sisters,” Drusilla suddenly said out of the blue.

Wesley frowned, trying to figure out where that had come from. “Your sisters?”

“We used to walk together like this,” she explained quietly. “I looked after them, you know.”

Wesley patted her hand comfortingly, unable to think of anything else to do. “I’m so very sorry.”

“Why?” Dru asked. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” Wesley agreed. “But still, I hadn’t even thought of how difficult it must be for you to be alone without your family.”

Dru pressed herself closer to him. “It isn’t so bad. I still have friends.”

Wesley’s mouth went dry, feeling her so close to him. “Yes,” he said, clearing his throat and wishing he could think of something a little better to say. “You do have friends.”

She was about to reply when her eyes widened. “Wesley—” Whatever she was about to say was cut off by the quiet thunk of a tranquilizer dart. Wesley caught her body as she fell unconscious, realizing that they were under attack.

He had come a long way from his days in Sunnydale, when he probably would have screamed and ran. Wesley did nothing of the sort, instead scooping up the unconscious woman and bolting for the nearest alley.

There was the sound of another dart hitting the wall behind him and shouts from their pursuers. It would not be possible for him to run nearly as far or as fast with Drusilla weighing him down. The only choice was to outwit them.

And Wesley prided himself on being able to outwit just about anyone.

~~~~~

Joyce came through the door in a whirlwind of motion. “Buffy? Are you home?”

“In the living room, Mom,” Buffy called back.

“Would you mind giving me a hand, honey? I went grocery shopping on my way home, and—” Joyce was interrupted by Spike, who seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“Can I get those?”

“Oh, thank you, Spike,” Joyce replied, allowing him to take a couple of the bags. “I thought I could carry them all inside.”

Buffy, who had been just a little slower in getting up, frowned. She felt like Spike kept showing her up with her mom. Almost like he was playing the good kid just to make her look bad.

Or, she reminded herself, he just had a soft spot for her mother.

Buffy grabbed one of the remaining bags from Joyce’s arms and carried it into the kitchen. “Are you making dinner tonight, Mom?”

“I thought I might,” Joyce replied. “Especially since we have a guest.”

Buffy very nearly told her mom that Spike wasn’t a guest before she caught herself. She really did need to try and be nicer to the vampire, especially in her mother’s presence. “Spike doesn’t eat people food.”

“Sure I do,” Spike said. “I just don’t need it like you do.”

Joyce shot her daughter a look that plainly said to be nice. Which made Buffy a little angry, since she thought she was being nice. “Well, I think it would be nice if Spike could eat with us. I don’t get a chance to have company very often.”

Buffy bit back an exasperated sigh. “I think I might do a quick patrol then, since it’s probably going to be a while.”

“Alright, honey,” Joyce replied. “Dinner should be ready in about an hour and a half.” She watched as her daughter left. “How are you, Spike?”

Spike looked up, surprised at being asked. “I’m alright,” he replied. “I, uh—” He hesitated, unused to being polite. “Thanks. For lettin’ me stay.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Joyce replied warmly.

Spike fell silent, watching as Joyce finished putting her groceries away and started making dinner. He’d promised Dru that he’d try to make the woman listen about being sick, but he had no idea where to start. “How are you, Joyce?” he asked, hoping that something she said would allow him to broach the subject.

“Oh, I’m fine.” She went about her business, and Spike bit back a sigh. He had no idea what to do now. “Well, I’ve been having these headaches lately,” Joyce admitted, almost as an afterthought. “I’m sure they’re nothing.”

Spike knew this was his chance. “Maybe you should get that checked out.”

Joyce shrugged. “The doctors will probably just tell me I’m being silly.”

“Dru said she could see you were sick,” Spike replied. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but she’s not usually wrong ‘bout things like this.”

Joyce was still not quite used to the supernatural. She’d been unaware for years, and then she’d convinced herself that the things she saw weren’t really there. Looking back, Joyce knew how deeply denial had become entrenched in her reactions. She could see Spike’s real concern for her, and thought perhaps she might try listening to him. “I’ll make an appointment with the doctor.”

Spike nodded, glad that duty had been discharged at least. “Good. That’s good.”

Joyce paused to smile at him warmly. “Thank you, Spike.”

“For what?”

“For being concerned.”

Spike couldn’t help but feel a warm glow at her words.

~~~~~

When Buffy returned from patrol, it was late, and she was tired. Compared to the past few nights, the graveyards had been hopping. The Slayer was getting just a little tired of the whole thing. If it wasn’t vampires, it was demons. And if it wasn’t demons, it was something else just as nasty.

The house was silent as she entered, and Buffy found a note from her mom on the kitchen counter, letting her know that she’d set aside a plate for her and it was in the fridge. She stuck the plate in the microwave. As Faith had often commented, slaying always made her hungry and horny. Thankfully she could satisfy her hunger at least.

“Talked to your mum tonight.”

Spike’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere, causing Buffy to start. “Geez, Spike, make a little noise or something.”

He grinned at her in the dim light of the kitchen. Buffy could smell cigarette smoke, and guessed that he’d been out on the back porch. “Jumpy tonight?”

“No,” Buffy replied. “You just came out of nowhere.”

“Which made you jump,” he pointed out relentlessly.

Buffy decided to do what she did best when confronted by that kind of logic: change the subject. “What do you mean you talked to Mom tonight?”

Spike lifted an eyebrow, indicating that he knew exactly what she was doing. “About what Dru said. She’s been havin’ headaches, an’ she said she’d go to the doctor.”

Buffy wasn’t sure whether or not she should be pleased. On the one hand, if Drusilla was right, then it was a good thing her mom was going to see the doctor. On the other hand, Buffy really didn’t want the ex-vampire to be right. “Well, that’s good,” she finally replied lamely, pulling her plate out of the microwave. “Just in case.”

There was a long pause as Spike watched her eat. Buffy didn’t know what to say, so she ended up settling for uncomfortable silence. It went on for a while, longer than Buffy cared for, that was for certain. Buffy was afraid she’d say something she’d regret if she opened her mouth.

“’m goin’ to watch the telly,” Spike abruptly announced, turning to leave the kitchen.

Buffy watched him go, debating whether or not to join him. She wasn’t quite ready for bed yet, and it would be nice to have company for a while. After putting her dishes in the dishwasher, she went out into the living room, sitting down next to Spike on the couch, although they weren’t touching.

Spike glanced over at her once while idly flipping through the channels. “Wait,” Buffy said. “That looks good.”

It was a rerun of _Friends_, and after a moment’s hesitation, Spike put the remote down. They watched the program without comment, Spike stealing occasional glimpses at the Slayer. Wondering how far she’d let him get, Spike stretched, letting his arm rest along the back of the couch so that his forearm was just behind her head.

Buffy, knowing exactly what he was doing, decided she didn’t care. In fact, she was beginning to wonder how far Spike would try to push it. When he made no more moves in her direction, Buffy decided to up the ante slightly, shifting her position on the couch as though trying to get comfortable, and ending up just a few inches closer.

Spike sat frozen, hardly able to believe his luck when Buffy moved just a little closer. After a brief moment of indecision he moved his arm so that his hand was right behind her head—and then he started playing with her hair.

Buffy knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this at all. She shouldn’t even be sitting here. By all rights, she should have ordered Spike to stay in the basement or something, but no. Here she was, sitting on the couch next to a vampire, and very much enjoying the feeling of his hand in her hair.

She missed being touched like that.

Spike, who was getting braver with every passing second that she didn’t punch him, started caressing her neck, his thumb rubbing small circles. Her sigh of pleasure was encouragement enough to continue, and he started massaging her neck in earnest.

“Don’t stop,” Buffy murmured, relishing the sensation. “Please.”

“I’ll keep it up as long as you want,” Spike replied, deliberately using the double entendre.

Buffy decided to let the comment slide since she was enjoying his hands so much. “Good. Then you can do it forever.”

Spike paused for a moment, wondering if she realized that forever was a very real possibility for him. “Can think of other things we could do too, Buffy.”

She stiffened. “I can’t, Spike.”

He kept going, pressing harder into tight muscles, forcing her to relax. “Right. Evil vampire, I get it.”

“Do you ever wish things were different?” Buffy asked softly, not even believing that she was talking to Spike like this. Like he was a friend—or more than a friend.

“Sometimes,” he confessed, his own voice equally low—intimate. “Not often, though.”

Buffy leaned back into his touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.”

“It’s completely wrong.”

“Absolutely.”

“And even if we did do something, it would just be physical, you know. I mean, it couldn’t ever be more than that for either of us.”

“Of course not.”

“Except of course if we were friends, and then it would just be like—like—” Buffy couldn’t find an appropriate analogy to use. What did you call it if you weren’t really friends but you slept together? Because she was already thinking about how good Spike’s hands were going to feel somewhere else.

“Friends with benefits?” he suggested.

Buffy considered. “Well, allies with benefits, anyway.”

“Are we actually havin’ this conversation?” Spike asked with some amusement.

“No,” Buffy replied. “Okay, yes, we’re having this conversation, but it’s just hypothetical.”

“We could test that theory,” Spike suggested.

The Slayer groaned slightly. “We could, except that my mom is here, so no.”

“When this is all over then,” Spike said quietly.

“Maybe,” Buffy replied, turning to face him. “I don’t know. It’s probably stupid to even think about it.”

“Probably,” Spike whispered—and then kissed her.

All of Buffy’s doubts about the wisdom of embarking on another relationship with a vampire evaporated at the feel of his lips. Not that they weren’t still valid concerns, but suddenly kissing said vampire just seemed so much more important.

~~~~~

It had been sheer luck that got Wesley to the motel in one piece without being seen. He had managed to evade his pursuers, even with Drusilla as a burden. At one point in the nightmarish trip, Wesley had realized that if he went back towards Cordelia’s apartment, as Wolfram and Hart most likely expected, he would probably run into trouble. It would be a better idea to find a spot to hole up for a while, at least until he could be assured of leaving safely.

After settling Drusilla on the single bed, he quickly dialed Cordy’s number. “Hello?” came the sleepy response.

“Cordelia?”

“Who else would it be at—” There was a slight pause. “—two in the morning? And why are you calling at two in the morning, anyway?”

“We were attacked on the way home,” Wesley replied.

Her tone sharpened. “Are you alright? Is Dru—”

“Here with me,” Wesley replied. “I managed to evade them, but Drusilla was hit by some kind of tranquilizer dart and hasn’t woken yet.”

Wesley could hear a hissed conversation and suddenly it was Angel’s voice on the other end. “Are you safe?”

“For now,” Wesley replied. “I don’t think we were followed.”

Angel let out a breath. “Good. Stay where you are and look after Dru. I’m going to do what I can to figure out what’s going on.”

“Angel, be careful,” Wesley warned.

“You too,” Angel replied. “I’m counting on you to take care of her, Wes.”

Wesley heard the click on the other end and put the handset down. He stood next to the bed, hesitating. There really wasn’t a choice for sleeping arrangements other than the floor. With a deep sigh, he toed off his shoes and lay down next to the unconscious woman. After a moment of indecision, Wesley took Drusilla’s hand in his own, hoping his touch would comfort her as she began to awaken.

And even though he didn’t mean to, Wesley soon drifted off to sleep.


	13. Spoils to the Victor

When Drusilla began to awaken, it was to the feel of a warm body pressed close to hers, her hand enfolded in a larger one. Even though she felt a little too warm from the contact, Dru found herself relishing the sensations. She recognized Wesley’s unique scent of soap and cologne, an earthy, masculine smell that sent a bolt of desire to the core of her being.

Drusilla might be a good girl, but that didn’t mean she was dead. At least, not anymore.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she turned her head to see Wesley’s face on the pillow next to her. Unsure of what her next move might be, Drusilla stayed still. After a few minutes, Wesley began to stir, his eyes widening when he saw her. “Drusilla,” he pulled back quickly. “Forgive me, I—”

“You what?” Her voice was still husky from sleep and the drugs that had been in the dart.

Wesley swallowed convulsively. “I, uh, I had to, uh, get a single room,” he said quietly. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a bed.”

A wicked smile crossed Drusilla’s face. “I suppose it will be alright. Are you planning on keeping your hands to yourself?”

The flush creeping into Wesley’s cheeks pleased her to no end. “Of course,” he assured her. “I would never—”

Her widening grin cut off his words. “Because I’m not certain that’s such a good plan.”

“Drusilla!” Wesley exclaimed. He was unsure what to do with this rather assertive woman. He wondered if she’d always been like this or if something had changed in the last 24 hours. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Of course, Wesley made no move to get off the bed or to release her hand. “Why not?” she asked, inching closer. “Don’t you want to kiss me?”

That was a stupid question. Wesley had actually been trying very hard _not_ to think about kissing her for the last few days. “Well, you see, as a matter of fact—”

Drusilla decided she needed to take action. She liked him. She more than liked him. For once, Dru didn’t want to be a good girl—she wanted to enjoy herself. Plus, she was psychic, so she knew exactly what she was getting into with Wesley.

The fact that he didn’t have the same advantage didn’t bother Drusilla in the least. She planned on being very careful with this man. The glimpses she’d caught of the future suggested that it might be bright indeed.

Her lips caught the rest of what he might have said, and though the kiss they shared was gentle, it shut Wesley up rather effectively. When he pulled back, the soft light in his eyes told her she’d done the right thing. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Do I look uncertain?” Drusilla asked, pulling him back in.

Wesley had to say that she seemed to know exactly what she wanted and how to get it.

~~~~~

Buffy was arguing with herself. It wasn’t an uncommon problem for her. There often seemed to be two people inside her head, each wanting something completely different. On this particular morning there was one voice that was urging her to forget all about the heated make out session she’d had with Spike.

The other voice was arguing just as strongly for going to the basement, waking him up, and starting all over again.

The second voice was winning.

Buffy bit back a groan. She knew it was stupid to even think about starting up a relationship with another vampire. Especially when that vampire was evil and unsouled.

Except that Spike really wasn’t _that_ evil. Sure, he liked to talk about how bad he was, but Buffy had seen him with Drusilla. It was pretty obvious that he would do just about anything for somebody he cared about.

And, yes, Buffy did realize how insane it was to talk about a soulless vampire “caring” about anyone or anything.

Of course, it wasn’t like Spike had ever been normal or anything. What other vampire liked little marshmallows in his hot chocolate?

Buffy was well aware that the idea of them embarking on something physical without their hearts getting involved was ludicrous. She already knew she felt _something_ for him—she just didn’t know what it was yet.

She wondered if Spike thought of her as more than just the Slayer, more than a trophy to be obtained. She thought the severity of his reaction to her lying to him was a clue. Spike had been pissed off enough to suggest that she had the capability of hurting him, which seemed to indicate that he might care for her more than he let on.

Then there was that little niggling doubt again, because even if he did care—at all—it didn’t mean he’d stick around. Angel and Riley had both cared, and they had left. Buffy almost thought it would be easier if neither she nor Spike shared more than lusty feelings, since that might keep both their hearts intact.

“You’re thinkin’ awful hard.”

Buffy whirled to face him, noting that he didn’t have his shirt on again. The sight of his well-toned chest and abs caused all rational thought to go right out of her head. “Would you stop that?” she demanded. “You’re always doing that!”

“Doin’ what?”

“Sneaking up on me!” Buffy snapped. “Should I get you a bell?”

“Does it come with a leather collar?” he asked, leering.

Somehow Buffy didn’t find his leer nearly as annoying today as she had in the past. “It might, if I thought it would help.”

Spike’s face softened slightly, and he gave her a genuine smile. “Gotta get my kicks somehow, Slayer,” he replied.

When Buffy merely rolled her eyes at him and went about the business of finding something to eat, Spike cleared his throat. “We need to talk about last night.”

“What about last night?” Buffy said, wanting to give nothing away. She wanted to hear what Spike had to say for himself first.

“Don’t play that game with me, Slayer,” Spike growled. “You know what about last night.”

Buffy sighed. “No, actually I don’t. If this is about the fact that we kissed, we kissed, Spike. That doesn’t mean we have to do anything about it.”

Spike scowled at her. “Why not? Are we doing the whole ‘me, Slayer, you, evil vampire’ thing again, because that’s gettin’ old.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy shot back, sounding just as frustrated. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?”

They stared at each other in a stalemate that didn’t look to be ending any time soon. Something in Spike’s eyes gave Buffy the courage to say, “I don’t know why you want me.”

“Because—”

She interrupted him again. “I mean, I don’t know if this is just—you know, about kissing, or if you—” Buffy winced. “Have feelings.”

The last two words were spoken in such a low tone that Spike probably would have missed them if he hadn’t been a vampire. “What kind of feelings?”

Buffy blushed. “Well, feelings.”

Spike was beginning to become amused. The Slayer’s ability to live in the land of denial was truly amazing. “If you’re askin’ if I want you dead, the answer’s no, pet.”

“That’s good,” Buffy said, knowing how lame it sounded even as the words left her mouth. “Because I don’t really want you dead either.”

He took a predatory step forward. “That right? Anything else goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours I should know about?”

Buffy’s mouth was watering. Literally. Why was it that Spike could stop her brain from working at ten feet? It wasn’t fair for a person of the undead persuasion to be that sexy. It would be so much easier if he were human. Or had a soul. Anything that would let her haul him upstairs and make use of the empty house guilt-free.

“There might be some friendly feelings there,” Buffy admitted.

Spike smirked. “Really? Matter of fact, I might have some friendly feelin’s of my own.”

Buffy took a step forward. “What are you going to do about it?”

He didn’t allow her to wonder for long. Spike had been thinking about kissing her again pretty much from the moment she’d gone upstairs the night before. He was just amazed that she wasn’t running in the opposite direction. She was, in fact, an enthusiastic participant.

As had happened the previous night, Buffy found the little voice in her head that warned her about what a bad idea this was became completely silent when Spike’s lips met hers. When his tongue came out to play, all coherent thought left her head completely.

Her hands on bare skin, Buffy pulled him close—as close as two people could get without sharing the same skin. They were so caught up in the moment, and in the sensations, that they didn’t realize they had a visitor.

At least not until Willow cleared her throat. “If you guys are done playing tonsil hockey…”

Buffy broke away from Spike somewhat sheepishly. “Willow.”

Willow had a smug grin on her face. “I thought you said you didn’t have the hots for Spike.”

The Slayer opened her mouth to protest that she didn’t, but the words wouldn’t come. It would be an outright lie given what Willow had witnessed with her own eyes. “Whoops.”

Spike, not at all happy with the interruption, crossed his arms in front of his bare chest. “What is it, Red?”

Willow flashed him a bright smile, not at all phased by his growly tone. “Angel called. Wolfram and Hart went after Drusilla last night. I guess Wesley got her out of harm’s way, and they’re holed up somewhere. Angel just wanted to give us a head’s up.”

“You couldn’t have just called?” Spike asked sardonically.

Willow shrugged. “I could have, but Buffy and I were supposed to hang out today.” She gave her friend a look. “You still up for it?”

Buffy hesitated, and then threw an apologetic look at Spike. “Do you mind?”

Spike minded, but the fact that Buffy wasn’t actively freaking out that Willow had caught them kissing was something. She was also asking him if he minded in a tone of voice that suggested what he said mattered. “S’pose not. We can suss this out later.”

“Absolutely,” Buffy said, almost too cheerfully. She was grateful for the reprieve. “We can definitely ‘suss’ away.”

Spike watched her dash out of the kitchen, meeting Willow’s eyes. “Well? You got somethin’ to say to me?”

Willow smiled, although there was a bite to her tone. “You hurt her, and I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

Somehow, Spike found himself believing her.

~~~~~

“Want to tell me what I walked in on?” Willow asked as soon as they were outside.

Buffy shrugged, refusing to meet Willow’s eyes. “We were kissing.”

“I know that much,” Willow replied, exasperated. “I thought you didn’t like Spike.”

“He grows on a person,” Buffy said. She glanced nervously at Willow. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she suddenly confessed. “It’s just—last night we were sitting on the couch, right? All of a sudden Spike has his hand in my hair, and it felt so good. Then we just started kissing. He’s just been so different lately, Will.”

“So you do like him.”

That seemed like too much of a black-and-white statement for Buffy. “There might be some like there,” she hedged. “He is a really good kisser.”

“So you’re using him for his body.” Although Willow’s tone was both serious and disapproving, she had a suspicious sparkle in her eyes. Buffy was just so much fun to tease.

“No!” Buffy replied. “There’s no using! It’s more like we’re friends with benefits, you know?”

Willow was still trying hard to hide a smile. “You’re friends with Spike.”

Buffy was now officially confused, if she hadn’t been before. “I—yeah, I guess I am,” she said defiantly.

“I knew it,” Willow said smugly. “I knew you had feelings for Spike.”

“And you don’t care?” Buffy asked.

Willow shrugged. “It’s not like you’ve never dated a vampire before,” she replied. “Besides, I’ve dated a werewolf, Xander’s with an ex-demon, and you’ve been really supportive about Tara.” Willow gave her friend a serious look. “Are you sure this is what you want, Buffy?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy confessed quietly. “You’re right, Will. There’s something there. I just don’t know what it means yet. I know I could be making a huge mistake, but—”

“Carpe diem?”

“Something like that,” Buffy replied. “Besides, if nothing else my mom likes him. You know how many of my boyfriends Mom’s liked in the past?”

“None?”

“You got it.” Buffy shook her head. “I have a feeling she’ll be thrilled.”

“Xander’s going to flip his lid,” Willow observed.

Buffy snorted. “Since when has Xander been a big fan of me dating anyone?” she asked. “He’s just going to have to learn that he does not get a say in my personal life. If I want to date Spike, I’m going to date Spike.”

Willow didn’t bother pointing out the fact that this was the first time that anyone had suggested that Spike was Buffy’s boyfriend.

~~~~~

Cordy watched Angel pace. “Now what?”

“I don’t know,” Angel grumbled. “It’s not like I can just call up Wolfram and Hart and say, ‘Hey, leave Drusilla alone!’”

Cordelia was curled up in her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Why not?”

“Like that’s going to work,” Angel scoffed. “They’ll do what they want. They always do.”

“Why don’t you make sure they won’t come after her then?” Cordelia asked. “I mean, it’s pretty much your job to take care of her, right?”

Angel stared at her. “Yeah, but I can’t stop them.”

“Why not?” Cordelia asked. “It’s not like they’re unkillable or anything. If you just let them know you mean business, maybe that would work. Go find somebody and smack ‘em around a little.” She smiled brightly. “It might even let you work off some of that tension and stop wearing a path in my floor.”

Angel grimaced. “Lilah and Lindsay were both at the raising,” he commented. “Maybe they know what’s going on.”

“Go after Lilah,” Cordelia suggested.

Angel glanced over at her. “Why Lilah?”

“Please,” Cordelia said. “She’s probably not nearly as pissed off at you as Lindsay is. After all, you cut off his hand. Why would he want to do anything for you?”

It was a good point, and Angel nodded slowly. “That might work. At least I might get her to tell me what they want.”

“Good plan,” Cordelia said. “Now go out there and carry it out,” she encouraged.

Angel smiled. “Are you getting fed up with me again?”

Cordy smiled. “No, but I had plans for a nice, hot bath and a good book.”

~~~~~

Drusilla relaxed into Wesley’s touch as he stroked her cheek. “When this is all over, I’m going to show you how wonderful this can be.”

“I can already see it,” Drusilla replied. “It’s dancing in your eyes.”

As much as Wesley really had wanted to make love to her, there was still the possibility that Wolfram and Hart would find them. He hardly wanted to be caught _in flagrante delicto_. “We’re probably moving too fast,” he murmured regretfully.

“It’s only too fast if you don’t know what you want,” she pointed out.

Wesley smiled in return. “I know what I want,” he replied. “You’re so beautiful.”

Spike had spoken to her in such a manner, even after he’d been turned. The gentle poet had never been completely banished, and he would often speak to her in soft words that would have delighted any woman’s soul.

Angelus had caused her to be incapable of truly appreciating anything but pain.

With the return of her sanity had come the return of her hope for the future. Drusilla could now see what it might be like to have Wesley work his magic on her with his hands and lips. She could very nearly taste the ecstasy to come.

She drew his head down for another kiss, but stiffened as the images intruded.

_The threat of sunlight—Drusilla no longer feared it, but it still held danger for Spike. The man speaking to him—threatening him—was the same man who’d had his hand cut off. He was threatening Spike with death unless he cooperated._

_The light brightened the room, leaving only one small corner in shade. Spike was effectively trapped and obviously weakened, although he still didn’t seem inclined to cooperate._

_Spike never had reacted well to threats._

_If they couldn’t have Drusilla, they would take the chip, use the technology for their own gain. And they would leave nothing of Spike behind._

“Drusilla?” Wesley’s concerned voice brought Dru back to reality. She glanced up at the ex-Watcher.

“They have him,” Drusilla said with conviction. “Oh, Wesley, they’re going to hurt him.”

~~~~~

Buffy felt slightly guilty for having been gone all day. She had figured that Spike probably could use the time to sleep, but she’d also needed the time away from him. Time to think about what had happened between the two of them.

Of what she wanted to happen.

She didn’t think she could stop it now if she tried. Buffy believed that whatever hung between them would have to be ridden out to its end, whatever that end might be. Perhaps it was foolish. She knew Giles would certainly tell her as much when he found out that there was something between her and Spike.

At the moment, however, Buffy really didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his lips on hers again.

The front door was open when she got home, and Buffy blinked in surprise and a sudden sense of fear. She rushed inside. “Mom? Spike?”

There was no answer, and Buffy rushed through the rooms on the first floor, finding them empty. Only a few things were out of place, but it was enough to send fear into her heart and to have Buffy rushing to the basement. She knew full well that Joyce had most likely not returned home again. “Spike?”

His cot was empty, the blankets tangled, the indentation from his body still clear on the thin mattress. With fading hope, Buffy ran up two flights of stairs to find the second floor empty as well.

Spike was gone.


	14. Perseverance

Wesley’s call, as might be expected, came moments after Angel had left Cordelia’s apartment. “They have Spike.”

Cordelia blinked. It took her a second to recognize the voice on the other end of the phone. “Wes? What—”

“Drusilla just had another vision,” Wesley said quickly. “Wolfram and Hart have Spike.”

She sighed. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Huh?”

“What do you want me to do about it, Wes?” she repeated with ill-concealed impatience. “Angel left to go scare Lilah, and I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Angel’s gone?” Wesley asked, thinking quickly. “Alright. I just thought if he was there—”

“I’ll give him the message when he gets back,” Cordelia assured him. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. How’s Drusilla?”

She could almost hear him blush over the phone. “We’re—she’s just fine.”

His slip was telling. “I take it you guys found a way to pass the time,” she commented.

“That’s none of your business,” Wesley replied primly. “Given recent developments, however, I think it might be best for us to stay where we are.”

“You do that, Wes,” Cordy replied, only half-kidding. “It’s probably better for Drusilla to be out of sight until we get this figured out.”

They said their goodbyes, and she hung up the phone. She had a feeling that Buffy would soon be calling, but decided to take the cordless into the bathroom with her.

Not that she would admit it, but she hoped that it took the Slayer just a little while to figure out that Spike had been nabbed. Cordelia really needed some time to herself.

~~~~~

Giles’ head went up as Buffy stormed into his flat. “They got him.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“They took Spike,” Buffy said, an edge of panic to her voice. “Those lawyers have him.”

He frowned. “Are you certain? Perhaps he just went out, or—”

“The door to my house was open when I got home, just after sunset, and Spike wasn’t there,” Buffy said flatly. “Besides, I saw the same black SUV go back and forth along my street yesterday.” The Slayer slammed her fist into the back of the couch, which shook ominously. “I never should have left the house.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Perhaps. On the other hand, they might have come in while you were there and taken both of you. There’s no way to be certain, Buffy.”

She frowned. “Maybe so, but it doesn’t matter now. We need to get him back.”

Her Watcher pulled off his glasses. “I suppose we ought to call Angel,” he said. “If they’ve managed to get Spike, they might well find Drusilla.”

“Dammit,” Buffy said, frustrated. “I can’t believe I let Spike get taken. I was supposed to be protecting him.”

Giles gave her a concerned look. “Buffy, you’re doing your best, I’m sure. Spike is a vampire. If they need him so badly, I doubt they’re planning on dusting him.”

“We don’t know that!” Buffy objected. “Spike makes _me_ want to dust him, and I—” She stopped there, fearful of giving too much away. “I should call Angel.”

Giles watched her dash away to use his phone, his curiosity peaking. Just the other day, Buffy had seemed to think of Spike as no more than an annoyance, and now—

It really was too horrifying to contemplate, so he shoved that thought to the back of his mind. There was no way Buffy would get involved with another vampire. Not after what had happened with Angel.

He was very nearly certain of it.

~~~~~

Lilah really didn’t like the look that Holland had on his face. It was bad enough that Lindsay had succeeded in capturing Spike. The vampire was still passed out and trussed up in a specially prepared office. She, on the other hand, had been unsuccessful in even locating Drusilla after Wesley managed to spirit her away.

Here she’d thought the man incapable of anything heroic.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Lilah?” Holland finally asked.

Lilah didn’t like his tone of voice either. She knew that the better Lindsay looked to the eyes of the Senior Partners, the worse she looked in comparison. She had worked too long and too hard, had made too many compromises, to give up a choice spot to him now. If there was one thing Lilah Morgan understood it was competition.

The competition at Wolfram and Hart was fierce.

She schooled her face into a placating expression, even though she was screaming on the inside. “I’ve been doing my best, but—”

“In this case, your best obviously isn’t good enough,” Holland stated, his tone chiding. “What I want to know is what you’re going to do to fix it.”

Lilah bit back the snarl in the back of her throat. “I’m working on it. I have our best psychics trying to get a read on her, but it’s like she has some sort of shield.”

Holland looked thoughtful. “I suppose that’s possible. It’s often difficult for psychics to see or predict others with similar abilities.”

Seeing her chance, Lilah took it. “Look, sir, I realize that I might have done better, but this was Lindsay’s project. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, and I think it might be a good idea to let him take over this part. There’s the telekinetic that we’ve been working on, plus the Gorman case. I don’t want to give those projects less than my best when I’m in charge.”

Holland seemed to consider her logic for a moment. “You’re right, Lilah. I have been unfair. Lindsay ought to be the one in charge of retrieving Drusilla. I’ll notify him immediately. I’m sure he’ll come up with a solution to our little problem.”

It was a thinly veiled barb, but Lilah decided that it didn’t matter. She was well and truly clear of the whole mess, which was a very good thing. Her woman’s intuition was telling her that this whole situation could blow up in their faces at any time.

She didn’t particularly want to be there for that.

Grabbing a couple files from her office, Lilah stuffed them into her attaché case and headed for her car. She’d spent enough long nights at the office to justify an evening at home. She’d have a glass of wine, turn on the TV, and go through her notes. It would be the perfect way to take her mind off what had been a hellish day.

That meant that it could only get worse. After all, just because she couldn’t see anyone in the rearview mirror, didn’t mean no one was there.

Angel’s arm snaked around the back of her seat and pinned her against the plush leather. Lilah tried to stifle her gasp, but she was quite sure that the vampire heard her heart rate accelerate dramatically.

“You have such a pretty neck,” he murmured. “I’m thinking of snapping it. Want to know why?”

“Why?” she asked, deciding to play dumb.

Angel was onto her game. “You’re a clever girl,” he replied. “You know why. I want to know what you want with Dru.”

Lilah knew she had a couple of choices. She could keep her mouth shut and hope that Angel’s soul kept him from doing her any lasting harm. Or, she could tell him everything he needed to know to wreck Lindsay’s project.

That last option was really appealing, as long as no one found out that she’d spilled her guts.

“We were trying to resurrect Darla,” Lilah confessed, deciding that in this case honesty really was the best policy. It wasn’t like it mattered anymore. “The idea was to use her to drive you crazy. We wanted you dark.”

Angel was impressed. Parading Darla around in front of his nose was bound to make him a little nuts. He still had a load of guilt from dusting her, and a lot of mixed feelings surrounding her. He loved her, but he didn’t. He admired her, but she had been evil. He had wanted to be with her, even if it meant losing everything he’d worked so hard for.

Drusilla, on the other hand, simply poured gasoline on the flame of his guilt. There was nothing ambivalent about his feelings for her. Angel wanted to protect her, to make sure no one had the chance to do the same things he’d done.

In short, Angel wanted to save her with the same intensity that once he’d sought to damn her.

“Not a bad plan,” he conceded. “What happened?”

Lilah sighed, feeling him loosen his grip slightly. “I don’t know. The spell went wrong, and Drusilla came back instead.”

“You were still going to try and use her to get to me.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Lilah nodded. “Until Lindsay discovered that Drusilla has visions. Then he came up with the bright idea just to use her.”

Angel didn’t miss the bitterness in her tone, and he silently exulted. This rivalry between Lilah and Lindsay would hurt them in the end, of that he was sure. As long as Angel could hope to turn one against the other, he might yet manage to save Drusilla. “What about Spike?”

“We’re going to make him an offer he can’t refuse.” Lilah tried to shift in her seat in order to see Angel’s face, but his arm was keeping her immobile. “He’s supposed to be the one that takes care of her.”

Angel frowned. There was no way Spike would go along with whatever plan they cooked up. He was annoyingly independent. And, where it concerned Dru, the other vampire would cut off a limb to keep her safe.

Then, something about what Lilah said caught his attention. “Wait a minute,” Angel said. “Where is Spike?”

“Wolfram and Hart has him,” Lilah replied, surprised he didn’t already know. “I would have thought—”

Angel frowned. He didn’t like being left out of the loop, but then he’d been waiting inside the parking garage for Lilah to come out for a while now. “How do I get him back?”

That kind of betrayal would be far too hard to hide. “I can’t tell you that,” Lilah said. “You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”

His arm like a vise around her throat, Angel ground out, “Actually, you are going to tell me, Lilah. You know why? Because people like you are much more interested in saving their own skins than in company loyalty. I might not like Spike, but he is family.”

“Seventh floor,” Lilah finally said. “But I don’t know how you think you’re going to get inside. The alarms go off as soon as a vampire enters the building.”

Angel smiled grimly, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. “I’ll figure something out.”

~~~~~

When Spike woke, he was still feeling fuzzy-headed from the drugs they’d pumped into him. He had gone back downstairs to get some more sleep after Buffy had left, only to wake at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He’d been expecting the Slayer, which was why it took him a moment to realize that the scent he was catching was of men’s aftershave, not Buffy’s usual vanilla.

By the time Spike realized that the scent belonged to neither Giles nor Xander—the only two men who might enter the Slayer’s house without waiting for someone to answer the door—it was too late. He had two tranq darts embedded in his chest, and Spike was out like a light.

There wasn’t even the chance to put up a fight, which really annoyed him.

The room they’d put him in was dark, for the most part, although he could see light through the window. Even though it was hours till daybreak, Spike could feel his skin crawl. He had no way to protect himself from the sunlight, and he could all too easily imagine himself bursting into flame.

Right when things were actually getting good between him and the Slayer, too.

Spike wasn’t quite sure whether or not to hope for rescue or escape. The chip would make fighting nearly impossible, and there was no telling whether or not Buffy would come after him.

Actually, she probably would, if only because Wolfram and Hart snatching him out from under her nose would have royally pissed her off.

It was too much to hope that her relatively friendly feelings for him would be strong enough to send her rushing in to the rescue.

Spike struggled with the bonds around his wrists. It felt like plastic of some sort, but it was strong enough to prevent him from snapping it. After a few minutes of fruitless struggle, he realized that he wasn’t going to free his hands through strength alone. The next best thing was to get his hands in front, rather than behind him.

That process went a little better, and after nearly wrenching his shoulder out of its socket, his hands were in front, allowing Spike to inspect the bonds more closely.

They did look like they were plastic, but obviously not your standard stuff. Whoever had put them on his wrists had cinched them tight, and Spike knew that he’d cut himself up pretty badly in his struggles.

He now had half a chance at doing something, however. Spike got himself standing and went over to the door. It was, of course, locked, and he tried forcing it open with his shoulder. The door rattled in its frame, but it wouldn’t so much as budge.

Spike frowned, wondering if his inability to force it open was due to whatever drug was left in his system or if it was the door.

Giving it one more powerful shove with his shoulder, Spike finally sat down on the floor again. There was nothing in the room, no furniture, nothing on the walls—except for the uncovered window.

And there was no way Buffy would manage to get him out before the sun rose.

~~~~~

They didn’t have much of a plan, but Buffy wasn’t willing to take the time to come up with one, not when they could be driving to L.A. A quick call to her mom, and Joyce had willingly lent her Jeep to Giles, since it was big enough to handle the four of them.

Tara and Willow were talking quietly in the back seat. They had made a stop at the magic store for basic supplies, hoping that they would be able to find anything else they needed in L.A. Buffy glanced over at Giles, who had put up surprisingly little fuss about heading out immediately. Perhaps her urgency was contagious, Buffy thought.

Giles was the first to break the silence. “Would you like to tell me what’s going on, Buffy?”

“What?” She frowned. “We’re trying to stop evil lawyers from using Spike.”

Giles lifted an eyebrow. “Somehow I don’t think your haste can be attributed solely to your desire to stop Wolfram and Hart.”

‘Crap,’ Buffy thought irritably. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings for Spike, but she had a feeling that was where this was going. “They came into my house and kidnapped one of my friends, Giles,” she said reasonably. “That tends to piss me off.”

“So you’re calling Spike a ‘friend’ now?”

The careful tone caused Buffy to freeze. Spike was a friend, as hard as it was to admit to it. Her life would be infinitely more boring without him. Just the thought of losing him sent a bolt of panic through her that she didn’t care to examine too closely. “Um, yes?” Buffy tried, hoping that her Watcher wouldn’t ask too many more questions.

Giles breathed out a sound that was almost a sigh. The very tone of his Slayer’s voice gave her away, whether she knew it or not. At least last time Buffy had been on “friendly” terms with Spike, it had been the result of Willow’s spell, and that had gone away. Now, however, it looked very much as though his worst fears were being confirmed.

He opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it just as quickly. “I do hope you know what you’re doing, Buffy.”

It was pointless to tell her that she had no business taking up with another vampire. Buffy had always done exactly what she wanted. The fears surrounding Spike’s chip were just the same as they had been a few weeks ago, when Giles would have counted on Buffy to stake him should there be a problem.

Except, knowing Spike and his history, Giles also knew that if Spike’s feelings for Buffy were similarly softening, it could be even better than the chip. A vampire’s nature was to kill, but Spike had gone above and beyond his nature in his intense devotion to Drusilla. Should he develop the same level of devotion to Buffy, it was possible that he might actually be able to transcend his demon’s inherent thirst for blood.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing, Giles,” Buffy said quietly. “I just know that I want a chance to figure it out.”

To her relief, Giles nodded. “All I will say then is be careful.”


	15. The Sun Will Come Up Tomorrow

There was just enough shade in one corner of the room to ensure that he wasn’t going to be immolated any time soon. Spike just hoped that the angle of the building was such that he wouldn’t end up on fire later.

Spike had always been able to withstand more sunlight than Angel, mostly because he wasn’t going to let anything keep him from doing what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it. Even for him, however, the room was painfully bright. His skin crawled as his demon screamed in protest at being so near the light.

The door opening was more annoying than anything else, since there was no way he would be able to escape—not across the sunny expanse of carpet.

“I see you’ve finally woken up,” the man said cheerfully. “Good thing the drugs wore off before the sun came up.”

Spike stayed stubbornly silent. “Well, I won’t keep you long. If you tell us where Drusilla is, this can all be over.”

The relief washed over him like a wave. They didn’t know where Dru was, which meant she was safe. “Don’t think so, mate,” Spike bit out. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t be tellin’ you.”

“Is that right?” Lindsay came a little farther into the room, although he kept a healthy distance. He knew Spike’s chip was supposed to prevent him from harming humans, but he didn’t particularly want to test it out. “Without Drusilla, we don’t have any need for you. If you want to stay in one piece, you’ll tell us where she is.”

Spike laughed out loud. “I told you, I don’t know where she is,” he replied. “She left with Angel and his gang, an’ we haven’t kept in touch.”

Lindsay knew there was only a slim chance that Spike knew Drusilla’s location. From what they had gotten on the wiretaps at Cordelia’s apartment, Wesley hadn’t told anyone of the location. The man was cautious to a fault. “Too bad for you then,” Lindsay said lightly. “We’ll just have to work on finding her without you.”

The lawyer turned and walked out of the room, leaving Spike still huddled in the shade, wondering exactly what their plans for him entailed.

He had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

~~~~~

Wesley watched Drusilla as she stared out the window. While the opportunity to spend time together was nice, they were both feeling trapped. Add to that the fact that they had no toiletries and no clothing except what was on their backs, and they were both feeling uncomfortable.

Drusilla had been anxious ever since her vision of Spike. Wesley had to wonder if she wasn’t still in love with the vampire, and if she was, what that meant for them. She and Spike had been together for over a century. It only made sense that she was still in love with him. “Are you alright?”

She glanced back at him where he sat on the edge of the bed. “Yes.”

Wesley winced at her short answer and lay back on the rough fabric of the comforter. “Do you still love him?”

“I will always love him,” Drusilla replied quietly. “But his heart isn’t mine any longer. It hasn’t been for a very long time.”

Wesley’s arm had gone up over his eyes, blocking his view of her. “We wouldn’t have to stay here,” he said quietly. “We could go back to Cordelia’s. If we’re careful—”

“Not yet,” Drusilla said softly. “It’s not time yet.” She came over to sit next to him on the bed, her hand tracing his jaw line. His clothing was wrinkled and he had a couple days’ growth of stubble on his face. “You needn’t worry, you know.”

“Worry about what?”

“What I feel.” She felt his skin, soft under the stubble. “Do you think I haven’t seen Spike’s path? He is caught up on a road that is not mine.”

Wesley’s arm moved so that she could see his eyes, vulnerable without his glasses. “You still love him, though.”

“Isn’t there anyone that you love, Wesley?” Drusilla asked softly.

He stared at her. How to tell her that he’d never been in love? Not really. Not when he’d been so busy trying to be the best Watcher in Council history. Not when he’d failed so miserably. His feelings for Cordelia had been infatuation, nothing more.

This—what he felt for Drusilla—was different.

“Not like you mean,” Wesley replied hoarsely. “I know you’ll always feel something for Spike, I just—wonder if you’re ready to move on.”

Drusilla laughed, although the sound had a bitter quality to it. She could usually force the memories to the back of her mind, forget that this body she wore had perpetrated horrible things. The fact that she’d been insane helped, since those memories didn’t seem to be hers. She saw them through the hazy veil of time. She seemed to have found herself on the other side of her madness, intact, the same girl she had been before Angelus had seen her that fateful night.

No, not the same girl. She was stronger now.

Times like this, however, she could not help but remember the expression on Spike’s face when he’d caught her with the Chaos demon. He had felt betrayed, and although Drusilla had known what was to come, she hadn’t let Spike in on it. Of course, her conception of time had been just a little skewed so that she often mistook the future for the present. She had sometimes forgotten that what was to come had not yet happened.

She had ripped Spike’s heart out. Drusilla could see that now.

The question, of course, was would she do the same to Wesley without meaning to. How could she explain her vision of the future? Her understanding of the past?

How could she hope to reconcile who she was with what she had been?

“I don’t always understand time so well,” Drusilla admitted. “I know what is coming, and I forget it’s not here yet.”

Wesley frowned. “Do you see—us?”

“I see what we could be. What you could be,” she corrected herself. “You don’t yet know your own strength.”

He reached up to push her hair back from her face. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Drusilla replied, meeting his lips with hers.

~~~~~

Buffy was impressed by the dramatic improvement in attitude Angel was demonstrating. She had to wonder if Cordelia wasn’t involved somehow. She’d watched the two of them interact, and had to admit that her old high school nemesis was skilled at getting the vampire out of brood-mode.

Instead of being reactive and whiny, Angel was suddenly focused. “So you know how we’re going to get Spike out of there.”

Angel frowned. “Not exactly, but I do know how we’re going to convince Wolfram and Hart to leave us alone.”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? How’s that?” She was in a much better mood after having her back scrubbed by Phantom Dennis. There was no way she’d even consider living in an apartment without a ghostly roommate after this.

Angel shrugged. “I’m going to do what I should have done from the beginning. I’m going to see to it that it’s in their best interests to leave her alone. Once they realize that I have no problem killing every single one of them to protect Dru, they’ll back off. And if they don’t need Dru, they won’t need Spike.”

It was impeccable logic, except for the fact that Angel was threatening to kill people. On the other hand, they had interrupted Buffy’s plans for Spike, which was never a good thing. No one got between the Slayer and her guy. It was the unwritten law of the universe.

“That’s all well and good,” Giles commented, “but first you have to get inside. I thought you said that there were alarms that warned them of the presence of vampires.”

Willow raised her hand. “I think Tara and I can help with that. There’s a charm we can make that will fool the alarms into thinking Angel is human.”

Angel looked surprised. “You can really do that?”

Tara shrugged. “I-it’s n-not too hard. It’s j-just a little more c-complex than a shielding spell.” She blushed as everyone’s eyes turned to her. “Willow’s really g-good w-with that k-kind of thing.”

“Tara’s the one who figured out the spell,” Willow said loyally.

Angel gave both witches a respectful look. “How long before it’s ready?”

They met each other’s eyes, seeming to communicate silently. “An hour?” Willow hedged. “Two at the outside.”

Buffy didn’t like the thought of any more time going by than had already elapsed, but she knew there weren’t any other options. “Won’t we have to wait till after dark?”

Angel shook his head. “There’s a sewer access they don’t know they have. We’ll go in that way. Once we find Spike, you’ll get him out while I go knock some heads together. Hopefully at that point we’ll be able to let Wesley know he and Dru can come out of hiding.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” Giles asked.

Angel frowned. “If that doesn’t work, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “Wolfram and Hart is pretty powerful. It’s hard to tell what they’ll do.”

~~~~~

“How long before you can work the spell?” Lindsay asked the witch, who had often done things of that nature for Wolfram and Hart. The lawyer had realized that there was no way Spike was going to give Drusilla up, nor was it possible to strike a deal with him and hope he would carry it out. Most likely, once they let the vampire go, they would never see him again.

On the other hand, by putting the geas on him, Lindsay could be assured that Spike would lead them directly to Drusilla, without even knowing he was complicit in the plan. Plus, he would be helpless to counteract it. It was the perfect solution.

The witch, an old woman who had never told him her name, pursed her lips. “It’s going to take a few hours at least,” she replied. “Putting a geas on a vampire is not done in a matter of minutes.”

Lindsay frowned. He hated to take the time, but now that he was in charge of retrieving Drusilla, he wanted it done correctly. If he was in too much of a hurry, he could very easily end up losing what little chance he had. “Fine. But I want it done as soon as possible.”

He stalked down the hall back to his office. Lindsay would be a lot happier when this whole thing was over. Maybe once they got Drusilla back in custody, they could find a way to use her without Spike. In fact, other than helping them find her, Lindsay wasn’t sure why they had to have him, especially when it didn’t look like he was going to play nice.

In fact, when this was all over, Lindsay was thinking that it might be better just to dust the vampire and be done with it.

It was never smart to leave a potential enemy alive, and when he found out that he’d been used, that’s exactly what Spike would be.

~~~~~

Spike was _really_ bored. There was nothing and no one around to distract him—nothing to take his mind off the fact that he was hungry and hot and very cranky. Anybody who said that vampires didn’t feel temperature hadn’t left one on the edge of a sunbeam all day.

He might have tried to sleep, since that was what he was supposed to be doing in the middle of the day, but the one time he’d dozed off, the sun had moved.

His hand hurt abominably.

Spike hated feeling this helpless. It reminded him too much of those months spent in a wheelchair, knowing that Angelus could pretty much do whatever he wanted with him. That had probably been the worst time in his unlife.

Except perhaps for the time he’d spent in Harris’ basement, before he’d known he could hurt demons. That had been worse.

To distract himself, Spike kept going over and over in his head what he and Buffy had talked about the last few days, everything she’d said to him, every small step they’d taken towards each other. The feel of her lips on his—her hands on his bare skin.

Spike stopped right there. Distracting as it was, it wasn’t helping him cool off any. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The patch of shade in the room had grown larger over the last hour until he was finally able to stretch out. Spike felt a sense of relief as he realized that the sun would soon be going down. The relief didn’t last all that long as he realized that the passing hours only brought him closer to whatever that lawyer was planning for him.

Spike wasn’t in the mood to lie to himself. They would try and find a way to use him to get to Dru, he was sure of it. His job was to make sure he was dust before he let anything like that happen.

A noise at the door had him struggling to his feet. He clenched his jaw, thinking of the pain that would inevitably come from fighting them, but Spike wasn’t going to have them think he was helpless.

He wondered how many throats he would be able to rip out before the chip fried his brain for good.

Spike’s jaw dropped as he saw who was at the door. “Buffy?”

She flashed him a quick grin. “Were you expecting someone else?”

His eyes wide, Spike watched as she dragged a burly guard through the door. She was dressed smartly in a business suit, which surprised him. He hadn’t thought she owned one of those. Plus, she was wearing glasses. It wasn’t a great disguise, but Spike doubted anyone would readily recognize her. “You—how did you get here?”

“Angel,” was her succinct answer, the evidence of which appeared just behind her.

The older vampire swept the room with his gaze. He was also in a suit and tie. “You okay here, Buffy?”

“Yep,” she replied. “I’m just going to free Spike, and then we’ll head for the sewers. Are you sure you don’t want us to stick around?”

“So Spike can cause more trouble?” Angel asked sarcastically. “I don’t think so. I’ve walked in there and scared the crap out of them before. I think I can handle it.”

Spike was just as astonished to see his grandsire as he was to see the Slayer. “How did you lot get in here?”

“There was a sewer tunnel involved,” Buffy replied. “I’m sure you’ll feel right at home.” When she couldn’t snap the bonds on his wrists, she sighed. “We’re going to have to do this elsewhere. I didn’t bring a knife.” She glanced back at Angel. “I’ll get him out. You do what you have to do.”

Angel nodded shortly and then left. “How did you get him to agree to ride to the rescue?” Spike asked incredulously.

Buffy shrugged. “It was sort of a ‘you messed with something that’s mine’ kinda deal.” She grinned again. “You know Angel has issues.”

She was teasing him. And, if he didn’t miss his guess, the Slayer was also flirting slightly. “What—”

“Leave now, talk later,” Buffy instructed, slipping off her jacket and hanging it over his bound wrists. She gave her disguise a critical look. “Not the best way to go, but it’ll do,” she decided, slipping a hand through his arm and leading him to the door.

“How did you know where I was?” Spike asked in a low tone as she led him down the hall to one of the elevators.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Angel found out. He was pumping one of the lawyers for information, and I guess she wanted to hurt the guy who grabbed you. She told Angel where you were, and voila. Here we are.”

The elevator doors slid open, and Buffy led him inside. Luckily, it was empty, and Spike found himself relaxing slightly. “So Peaches is going to do what?”

“Hopefully scare them into leaving Dru alone,” Buffy replied. “I’m not sure how, and I don’t think I want to watch. He’s really pissed off about the whole thing.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Spike muttered. He breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator hit the basement without stopping.

Buffy tugged him along the hallway, stopping when she saw a woman approaching. “Crap.”

“I see you got him out,” Lilah commented. “You’re just in time.”

The Slayer frowned. “Just in time for what?”

“Lindsay was going to lay a geas on your vampire. He would have led them right to Drusilla without knowing what he was doing.” Lilah smiled smugly, stepping aside to let them pass. “Nice work. Hope you two crazy kids have a great life.”

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Buffy rushed past Lilah, Spike firmly in her grip, pausing only to murmur a brief thanks. They managed to make it to the sewer tunnel without any more interruptions, Spike dropping through the hole awkwardly with Buffy close behind.

No sooner did he have his feet on solid ground again, than the Slayer’s lips were pressed to his, her hands shoving him back up against the tunnel wall. “Don’t ever get vamp-napped again,” she ordered, finally breaking off the kiss. “I mean it.”

“You got it,” he replied hoarsely. “No more gettin’ snatched by evil lawyers.”

Buffy smiled. “Good. Now let’s get out of here.” Then she stepped back, frowning. “You know, you really look like crap.”


	16. Dealing with the Devil

Angel had decided that he really didn’t care how Buffy felt about Spike. It was obvious that she didn’t hate him. It was even more apparent that there were more than just friendly feelings on her part. Angel did have a superior sense of smell, after all.

Even with all of that, however, Angel knew he had bigger fish to fry than the Slayer’s feelings for his grandchilde. His primary responsibility was to make certain that Drusilla would be safe and provided for. For the moment, that required his full attention.

His polite inquiry to Lindsay’s secretary had her giving up the lawyer’s location in no time. In her defense, the woman tried to stop him from going into his office, but Angel easily brushed her aside on his way to the conference room.

It was a good entrance, Angel thought as he flung the door open, watching all eyes turn towards him. He had learned the value of a good entrance over the years. This time he headed straight for Holland, recognizing the need to go right to the top for this little mission.

Holland was half out of his seat by the time Angel got to him, but the vampire shoved him back down, grabbing a fistful of his shirt front. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Angel growled. “I’m Angel, and you have something of mine.”

“Angel,” Holland replied. “It’s nice to meet you.” Although his voice was steady, and he was showing little fear, Angel could smell it rolling off him in waves.

Angel smiled, letting a little fang show. “It’s not going to be nice for very long,” he promised.

It’s a bit difficult not to be afraid of a vampire whose fangs are mere inches from your throat. Holland swallowed hard. “Now I’m sure we can work something out,” he said, trying to placate Angel. “Let’s not be hasty.”

“Oh, I’m not planning on being hasty,” Angel replied. “This is going to be real slow unless you do exactly as I say.”

Lindsay was standing and edging his way closer. “We don’t make deals with people who come in here and threaten us.”

When Angel’s fangs got that much closer to Holland’s jugular, he was quick to disagree with his subordinate. “We can always make a deal,” he said quickly, shooting Lindsay a look. “Just what is it that you would like, Angel?”

“Funny you should ask,” Angel replied, as though it had never been his intention to make demands. “I want you to leave Dru alone, for starters. Also, keep your hands off Spike. I might not like him much, but he is family.”

“Anything else?” Lindsay asked, his tone dry.

Angel smiled evilly. “Oh, I’ve got a whole list.” His grin grew wider. “But first, I think I want a little snack.”

Biting someone really does make a point, after all.

~~~~~

Buffy was acutely aware of just how many people were at Cordelia’s place. Once she’d realized just how weakened Spike was from a day spent nearly roasting and from the lack of blood, the Slayer had gotten a move on. What she’d really wanted to do was shove him back up against the wall for another make out session, bound hands and all.

Actually, aside from the fact that Buffy really wanted Spike’s hands _on_ her, the bound hands weren’t a problem.

The problem was that there was no privacy at Cordelia’s apartment. They had arrived shortly after dark, which was good for Spike since he didn’t get singed. Willow was watching them both with an amusement that Buffy found highly annoying, and Giles was immediately underfoot wanting to know exactly what had happened.

All Buffy wanted to do was sit Spike down, make sure he was okay and get him fed. That was exactly what she told her Watcher when he started asking both of them a multitude of questions. “Spike is about ready to collapse,” she said, in no uncertain terms. “I want to get him taken care of before we start discussing what happened. Besides, it would probably be better if we wait for Angel to get back before we start show and tell.”

Spike thought about arguing about whether or not he was ready to collapse, but he decided he liked the fact that Buffy seemed so concerned about him and kept his mouth shut.

Turning to Cordelia, Buffy asked, “Do you have a sharp knife? And blood?”

Cordy gave Buffy a speculative glance, but said only, “I’ve got both. Do you want to use the bedroom?”

Giles looked as though he might protest, but he quickly shut his mouth, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor in this case. Buffy grabbed Spike and pulled him back towards the bedroom, Cordelia following moments later with the requested items. “I heated up the blood,” she said. “Angel always likes his warmed up.”

“Thanks, Cordelia,” Buffy said gratefully, poking Spike.

Taking the hint, he mumbled a thanks, too busy staring at the blood to do much more. Cordelia rolled her eyes and left, leaving Buffy to start sawing on the bonds. “What is this stuff?” she muttered. “It looks like plastic, but it’s—” she grunted, applying full Slayer-strength to the job. “Tough.”

Spike applied his own strength to pulling, in spite of the pain from his raw wrists, and the bonds parted with a snap. The Slayer grabbed one of his hands, staring at the bloody lines with concern. “Drink,” she ordered, handing him the tub of warmed blood. “I’m going to ask Cordelia if she’s got a first aid kit.”

“Vampire here,” Spike replied grabbing the tub. “I’ll be fine soon’s I get something to eat.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with me wanting to help you?” Her tone said quite plainly that he better not.

Spike decided to bite his tongue for once in his life, rather relishing the idea of more kissing. If he played his cards right, he thought he might be able to steal a couple in between bandages. “No, not at all.”

“Good.”

As soon as Buffy had left the room, Spike started downing the blood. He hadn’t been this hungry since right after getting the chip, and he couldn’t say he liked the feeling. By the time Buffy was back, the blood was gone, and she gave him a concerned look. “Are you going to need any more?”

He shook his head. “Not right now. I’ll wait till we get back to Sunnyhell.” Spike watched, bemused, as Buffy dabbed antiseptic on his right wrist. “You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

“I want to,” Buffy replied in an equally low voice. She turned his hand over gently, looking at the burn. “What happened here?”

“Fell asleep an’ got caught by the sun,” Spike replied. “Stupid.”

Buffy frowned. “Darn. I hope Angel hits that lawyer at least once for me.”

“You really think he will?” Spike asked doubtfully. “This is Peaches we’re talkin’ about. Don’t think he ever really crosses the line.”

Buffy smiled. “You didn’t see him when we were on our way to get you. He’s seriously pissed off over this whole deal, both because they went after Dru, and because he had to rescue you.” She grinned at him. “Angel really doesn’t like you.”

“I’m the thorn in his side,” Spike replied with an answering smile. “I always did know just how to piss him off.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Buffy asked. She finished on the right hand and started on the left. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Spike replied, mesmerized by the feel of her hands on his skin. “Be even better once I get a chance to sleep.”

She smiled at him. “There’s a bed with your name on it as soon as we get home,” she promised. “Once Angel gets back, and we find out what’s what, we’ll take off.”

Spike wasn’t quite sure what to say. While Buffy hadn’t been showing much hesitancy in her affection for him previously, she seemed to have jumped a hurdle. This was beyond nice. This behavior was moving rapidly into concerned-girlfriend-land, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.

Not that he couldn’t think of a few things he wanted to do, but Spike was smart enough to know that Cordelia’s bed was definitely not the place for it. Not knowing what to say, and unable to think of anything else, Spike said, “Thanks.”

“For what?” Buffy asked.

“For comin’ for me,” he replied. “Wasn’t sure you would.”

She frowned. “Why would you think I’d let the evil lawyers have you, Spike?”

He shrugged. “’s just—up till recently you hated me, Slayer.”

“We kissed.”

“That doesn’t always change things.”

“Are you saying you still hate me?”

Her voice warned Spike that trouble was coming and ought to be headed off as quickly as possible. “Didn’t say that. Just said that I wasn’t sure how much things had changed.”

He was asking for answers too soon. Spike knew it even as the words left his lips. He should have kept his mouth shut and just accepted what was offered. What did the meaning matter when her hands were gentle and her words soft? He was forever asking questions to which he didn’t want the answers. Always wanting more than he could possibly have.

They had kissed in her kitchen, and Buffy hadn’t completely freaked when Willow found them out. It should have been enough.

Buffy saw the play of emotions on Spike’s face, suddenly realizing that she could read him like a book. When had that happened? When had she actually gotten to know him? He was scared to death of her reaction, scared to death she was going to reject him. And didn’t Buffy know that feeling?

“I’d say things have changed a lot,” she said carefully.

Spike nodded, deciding that was probably the best answer he could hope for. “Right. That’s good.”

“Spike—” Buffy hesitated for a moment. “You’re my vampire,” she said finally. “And no one lays a hand on what’s mine.”

It wasn’t love, but it would do.

~~~~~

Wesley sighed. He knew he ought to call Cordelia and find out where Angel was and if the vampire had settled things, but he really didn’t want to. In spite of the inconvenience being in the dingy motel room presented, it had been just him and Drusilla, with no distractions. That alone made the time worthwhile.

He had to admit that he was more than a little concerned that once Drusilla got out into the world again, and saw what it had to offer her, she would look upon him as a bad bet. She was beautiful, intelligent, talented—

“What are you thinking, love?”

Wesley stiffened slightly when he felt her arms snake around his waist, and then he relaxed again. “I was thinking of you.”

Her grip tightened. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“How could they not be?”

“You’re not putting yourself down again, are you?” Drusilla asked, already knowing Wesley better than he realized. “Because I won’t have it.”

Wesley smiled slightly, knowing when he was out-matched. “No, of course not. I was also thinking that we should call Angel.”

“Do we have to?” Drusilla asked softly. “I’ve rather enjoyed it being just the two of us.”

Wesley felt some of the tension leave him, knowing that she had as little desire to join the rest of the world as he. Her objection gave him the wherewithal to say, “I’m afraid so, as much as I might like to stay here.” He paused. “Well, not here perhaps.”

“I should like to see the sun set over the ocean,” Drusilla murmured.

Wesley turned so he could face her. “When this is all over, you shall,” he promised. “We can spend the day on the beach, if you like.”

Dru gave him a sly smile. “Will there be ice cream?”

Wesley laughed. “As much as you like.”

~~~~~

The blood on his collar gave Angel away immediately. “What did you do?” Cordelia demanded, ever the observant one.

He looked a bit guilty—as guilty as a little boy caught with cookie crumbs on his face who had very much enjoyed his plunder. “I used a little persuasion. I had to make sure they were going to take me seriously.”

Buffy and Spike had long since emerged from Cordelia’s bedroom. Spike had been answering Giles’ questions as best as he could while attempting to ignore Willow’s knowing looks. He was trying not to appear gleeful at Angel’s actions, but couldn’t quite contain himself. “Which one did you eat?”

“I didn’t eat him,” Angel replied, testy. “I just—tasted him. And it was Holland. I thought about going after Lindsay, but I didn’t think it would make my point.”

Giles frowned. “Are they going to leave Drusilla alone?” His tone was doubtful. “I don’t see why mere threats would be enough to prevent them from coming after her again.”

Angel’s smile was nothing short of evil. “I promised Holland that I would take it very personally if anything happened to either Dru or Spike and that I would come after him. And that I would take it out of his hide. I think we reached an understanding.”

“They’ll find another way to come after you,” Buffy predicted. “If not through Drusilla, they’ll try and find something else.”

“So what else is new?” Cordelia muttered.

Angel nodded his agreement. “Cordy’s right. At least you and Spike are out of it, and Drusilla’s safe. That’s really all that matters right now.”

“I’m touched, Peaches,” Spike said, placing a hand over his unbeating heart. “I didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t,” Angel was quick to shoot back. “I just don’t want to have to save your sorry ass again.”

Spike might have replied to that rather inflammatory comment, but was stopped by Buffy’s elbow in his ribs. “If you don’t need us, I think we should be getting back home,” she said.

“Yes, quite,” Giles agreed. “It’s probably best to get back before the sun rises.”

“We don’t want Spike getting toasty,” Willow piped up, grinning.

Spike and Buffy both shot the witch a look. “I-I think what Willow is saying is th-that Spike doesn’t need any more injuries,” Tara said, ever the peacemaker. “And we’re all tired.”

“Of course,” Giles said, not wanting to think about Willow’s expression, or Buffy’s solicitous attitude towards Spike.

“We’ve still got some time,” Spike said quietly. “I wouldn’t mind stayin’ a bit longer.”

Buffy frowned. “Spike—”

“No, he’s right,” Angel said quietly, knowing why Spike wanted to stay, and for once agreeing. He understood the need for closure. “At least stay until Wesley calls.”

Buffy met Spike eyes and finally nodded. “Okay, but if it gets too late, we’re leaving,” she said. “I don’t want to be racing the sunrise.”

~~~~~

It was lucky for Spike that Wesley called not five minutes later, and the ex-Watcher promised to swing by Cordelia’s place on their way back to his apartment. He might not have liked the fact that Spike needed to see Drusilla, but Wesley knew he had no right to prevent it.

Spike met the both of them outside, and Wesley went in to give them some privacy and give the others an update. The vampire hadn’t seen Drusilla since before she’d left Sunnydale, and her periods of lucidity had been spotty at best.

Now, however, she met him as an equal for the first time in a long while. “How you doin’, luv?”

“Good,” Drusilla replied. “I’ve missed you.”

“Did you?” Spike replied, trying for glib, and not quite managing it.

She stepped up to him, her hand coming to run through his curls. “I’m so very sorry, William.”

Spike stared at her. “For what?”

“For damning you.”

Spike blinked rapidly. “You didn’t damn me, pet. You saved me. I was nothing.”

“You were a good man,” Drusilla replied quietly. “And you could be again.” She smiled coyly. “I was right, you know.”

Spike immediately knew what she was talking about. “I know. Didn’t take me too long to figure it out. I think she might like me back.” He touched her cheek tenderly. Even as a member of the quartet known as the Scourge of Europe, Spike had always been able to be tender with Drusilla. “I’m sorry too, you know. For hurtin’ you.”

“’twasn’t your fault, my love,” she murmured. “Told you that you were the lamb.”

He frowned. “The lamb?”

“Run and catch, run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch.”

Spike half-smiled. “So I’m the lamb,” he replied, “but what’s the blackberry patch?”

“You should ask, ‘Who?’” Drusilla responded, looking over his shoulder. Spike turned to see the Slayer standing there.

“Are you ready, Spike?” Buffy asked, sounding a bit awkward. “Giles is chomping at the bit.”

“Yeah, just a mo’.” He turned back to Drusilla, who was watching him with wise eyes. Spike could recognize an end when he saw one. “I’ll be seein’ you, Dru.”

“Yes.” Drusilla kissed him gently on the cheek. “Be well, my Spike.”

And though they would see one another again, it would never be the same.


	17. Adjustments

When Buffy stumbled downstairs, it was early afternoon. They had gotten back to Sunnydale about an hour before dawn, and though both Tara and Willow had slept the whole way, Buffy wasn’t so lucky. She’d been too busy staring at the back of Spike’s head where it leaned up against the window.

The Slayer had been grateful for the seating arrangements, since it meant that Giles couldn’t really talk to her. Buffy didn’t want to talk. She wanted to try and figure out what the blind panic and driving need to get Spike back had been all about. The idea of him not being in her life anymore was frightening—more so than it should have been.

She hadn’t come to any real conclusions during the two hour drive. Spike was still a vampire. He still didn’t have a soul. He could still be annoying and a real pain in the ass.

He could also be sweet, charming, besides being always absolutely gorgeous. Plus, his track record suggested that he might actually stick around, unlike some of her previous boyfriends.

If Buffy lined up the pros and cons side by side, it was easy to see which side outweighed the other. Really, it was only the potential for Spike’s chip not working that was keeping her from being with him. She’d worked around the vampire thing before. Him reverting to eating people wasn’t quite so easy to take.

“Good morning, Buffy.” Joyce smiled at her daughter from where she was perusing the paper, drinking a cup of coffee. “Did you get in late?”

“Yeah,” Buffy said, going to pour her own cup. “Is Spike still sleeping?”

Joyce looked her thoughtfully for a moment before answering. “Yes, he is. I went and checked on him just a little while ago. I’m glad you got him back safely.”

“Me too,” Buffy replied, and Joyce didn’t miss the fervent tone in her daughters voice. Now Joyce hadn’t always been the best of mothers; she could readily admit to that. There were things she had done, things she had said, that she couldn’t look back upon without cringing.

These days, however, she thought she was doing pretty good, and Joyce knew Buffy well enough to know when she had feelings for a particular person. In this case, a particular someone of the undead persuasion, sleeping on a cot in her basement. And, while Joyce liked Spike a great deal, she wasn’t sure she wanted her daughter dating a vampire again.

On the other hand, these weren’t the days when she could politely use emotional blackmail to chase someone off. Buffy was an adult, and somehow Joyce knew that Spike would not be easily dissuaded, if he indeed returned Buffy’s affections.

Joyce already thought she knew how Spike felt. “I take it you and Spike are friends now.”

Buffy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Sure. He’s not so bad really.”

“More than friends?”

Buffy’s head shot up. “What?”

“Buffy—”

“Don’t say it, Mom,” she replied quickly. “You were the one who told me to be nice to Spike. If I hadn’t followed your advice, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Joyce wasn’t sure what kind of reply she could make to that. “So what is happening, Buffy?”

“I don’t know, Mom.” Her words were very nearly at a wail. “I like him. He’s really cute, and he can be nice when he wants to be, and he gets me.” Buffy sighed. “He understands me, Mom.”

Joyce hesitated before saying, “That’s important, sweetheart, but don’t you want someone who can walk in the sun with you? Give you some semblance of a normal life?”

“I tried normal with Riley, Mom,” Buffy replied. “It didn’t work. He couldn’t handle who I am. And _I’m_ not normal. I’m the Slayer. Most guys wouldn’t be able to handle that. At least Spike can.”

Again Joyce found herself silenced, both by Buffy’s argument and by what had gone unsaid. The likelihood of her daughter living long enough to enjoy a normal life was slim. It wasn’t something she liked to think about, or that Buffy willingly talked about, but it was true.

The small voice in the back of Joyce’s head came unbidden—that perhaps Spike would be able to keep Buffy safe, or safer.

In what was obviously a strategic change of subject, Buffy asked, “What are you doing home now, Mom? Is the gallery closed today?”

“I got someone to cover for me,” Joyce replied. “I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take.”

“You went to see the doctor?” Buffy asked sharply. “What did he say?”

Joyce grimaced. “What I thought he’d say. He couldn’t see anything wrong, but he was worried enough about the headaches to order an MRI. I’m supposed to go in tomorrow.”

“That quick?” Buffy said. “Does he—I mean, are you going to be okay?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Joyce said dismissively, trying to comfort herself as much as Buffy.

Buffy was remembering Drusilla’s uncanny knack for knowing things, and she wasn’t so sure.

~~~~~

Wesley was making tea when Drusilla came to join him in the kitchen. “Are you sorry to be back?”

He looked over at her. “I was happy to have fresh clothing,” he admitted. “And it’s not so bad. I did tell Angel and Cordelia we’d be over later today. I’m afraid we’re rather behind on work.”

“Perhaps I should stay here,” Drusilla suggested. “I wouldn’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be in the way,” Wesley said quickly. “Although, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to go. If you want to stay—”

Drusilla laid a hand on his arm. “I cannot stay here, my love.”

He had known it was coming. Wesley had known that Drusilla would leave once their short vacation was over. Her staying with him was becoming awkward. The attraction was there, of course, as well as the admiration and respect, but their relationship was not yet rooted in time. They didn’t yet know if they would weather their first argument, or if their living arrangement ought to be made permanent. “I know.”

“I want my own little place,” Drusilla continued. “For a time anyway. I’ve lived too long at the whim of others.”

Wesley turned to face her. “I know, sweetheart. You should do whatever you need to do to be comfortable.”

“Just because I want to stand on my own two feet doesn’t mean I don’t need someone to stand beside me,” Drusilla said softly. “I’m not really going anywhere.”

Wesley leaned down to kiss her. “That’s fine. Besides, I promised you a trip to the beach, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Drusilla replied. “I can think of another thing that you promised as well.”

Her hand trailed down his chest, and Wesley sucked in a breath. “Are you sure? I would have thought—”

“I know my own mind,” Drusilla replied. “I want to feel you, Wesley. Please. Help me forget all that has come before.”

Wesley hesitated only briefly before kissing her again, this time more demandingly. He thought he should have minded that she was calling the shots, deciding when they would move to the next level. Perhaps he should have cared that Drusilla appeared to be using him to forget something she would rather not remember.

That she was using his hands to block out all thoughts of other hands that had blazed the same trails.

If Wesley thought too terribly hard about it, he would also remember that Drusilla had been Angel’s in every sense at one point in time. She had been a vampire, renowned for her cruelty and malice.

The woman in his arms was fragile as spun glass—deceptively so, since Wesley could taste her strength on his lips. He wanted to care for her, and for her to know she was cared for. He wanted to show her that pleasure was as much about slow, lingering touches as it was about pain, quick and bright.

Wesley wanted to build up to a slow burn so that when Drusilla finally came, she would tumble over the cliff right into his arms.

He wanted to be the only one she would see.

In the end, she filled his vision, and Wesley had no doubts that a man would sell his soul to be with her. He understood why a person might spend centuries with Drusilla, worshipping at her altar.

Wesley was lost, while Drusilla felt as though she had finally been found.

~~~~~

Cordelia was having a hard time processing what she was seeing. “What are you doing?”

“I’m packing,” Angel replied, almost cheerfully.

No, he was cheerful. Cordy sat down in her chair with a thump, watching as the vampire finished zipping his clothes into a bag. “Okay. Who are you and what have you done with the real Angel?”

“Very funny, Cordy,” Angel said. Even her teasing couldn’t put him off. “I just thought that it was time I got out of here. If I keep waiting for the perfect place, it’s going to take way too long.”

“And you’re just now figuring that out?” Cordelia asked with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously, Angel. What brought this on?”

He shrugged. “Drusilla talked to me last night before they left. She said she can’t stay with Wesley right now.”

“I thought they were hitting it off!” Cordelia protested. “She and Wes—”

“Are a couple,” Angel said softly. “Which is why she doesn’t feel comfortable staying with him. I think she said something about them each needing their own space so their relationship could grow. Anyway, she’s going to need a place to stay, and there aren’t a lot of choices.”

Cordelia sighed. It looked as though she was going to get a house guest after all. “For how long?”

Angel leaned back. “Honestly? Probably not that long. Dru’s going to need some help figuring things out, money that sort of thing. I’ll make sure the financials are taken care of, but she needs someone to show her the ropes.”

Cordelia didn’t mind nearly as much as she thought she would. She really liked Drusilla, and thought that they would probably do okay for a while. Not that Cordy wanted a permanent roommate, but it wouldn’t be so bad. It would be nice to have another woman around to balance out all the testosterone, that was for sure.

“Okay,” Cordy finally said. “That doesn’t explain why you’re in such a hurry to get a move on when you’ve been brooding constantly for the last week.”

Angel squirmed uncomfortably. “I wasn’t brooding constantly.”

“Yes, you were,” she replied. “I had to kick your ass to get you to move. So what changed?” Angel was looking anywhere but at her. He mumbled something that Cordelia didn’t quite catch. “What’s that?”

“I saved her, Cordy,” Angel finally said. “That’s all I really wanted to do. Dru went to Spike first, not me. She trusted him, not me. But in the end, I was the one that convinced Wolfram and Hart to leave her alone.”

Cordelia decided not to point out that really Wesley had been the one to save her with his quick thinking, if you wanted to get technical. Or that it had been a team effort, with Tara and Willow providing the magical assistance and Buffy the extra muscle. If Angel needed to believe he’d been the mastermind and had taken care of things by himself, who was she to argue?

As long as he gave her plenty of credit, anyway.

“So where are you going?” Cordelia asked.

“It’s not much,” Angel replied. “Just a basement apartment a lot like the one I had in Sunnydale. We’ll have to keep using your place for the business until I can find something better, but it will do for now.”

Cordelia decided not to argue with him keeping her place as a base of operations. At least she’d have some chance of having her apartment to herself occasionally. “What are you going to do about Drusilla, Angel?” she asked instead. “For money, I mean.”

“I didn’t mention that?” Angel sounded as innocent as a newborn babe. Cordelia knew that was a crock.

She gave him a look. “No, I don’t think you did.”

He grinned at her. “Wolfram and Hart is setting up a trust fund, or I come visiting again. We should be getting the packet in the mail in the next couple of days.”

Cordelia wasn’t sure it was the best idea Angel had ever had. It made them all a little too dependent upon the law firm, for one thing. On the other hand, there was a certain poetic justice there. It only made sense for Wolfram and Hart to foot the bill for Dru, since they were the ones who had brought her back.

“Clever,” Cordelia finally said. “But are you sure they aren’t going to use that against her?”

Angel smirked, looking much more like Angelus in that moment than he had in a while. “Not if they don’t want to be eaten.

~~~~~

Spike slept deeply and dreamlessly, waking once only to roll over and go back to sleep. The sun had gone down by the time he rose, feeling much more like his normal self. It would be a while before he would knowingly risk the sunlight again, of that he was certain.

The burn and the cuts on his hand and wrists were healing nicely. In another day they would disappear completely. His hunger was a sharp pain, reminded him that he hadn’t had nearly enough to eat the last couple days.

Silence greeted him as he entered the kitchen, even though Spike knew that there was at least one other person in the house with him. He wondered where Buffy was, and if anything had really changed between the two of them.

He had changed. Drusilla had been right about his feelings for the Slayer, and it was more than just sexual attraction. He wanted her to see him for what he was—or for what he could be. This wouldn’t be the first time that Spike turned his world upside down for the woman he loved.

Buffy still had to be convinced that things could work between them, however, and Spike had no idea of how to convince her. She liked him enough to come rescue him, but was it enough? Or would they be forever meeting in the darkness, where no one could see them?

Would she somehow manage to convince herself that there was really nothing there worth pursuing?

“Hello, Spike.”

“Joyce.” Spike turned to face her, sensing a wariness in her that hadn’t been there before. “Thanks. For lettin’ me crash here again today.”

“Buffy said you had quite an ordeal,” she replied.

He shrugged. “I’ll be out of your way soon as I get somethin’ to eat.”

“I wanted to talk to you about Buffy.”

“Is she here?”

“She went out on patrol,” Joyce replied. “She wanted to let you sleep as long as you needed.”

Spike smiled. “That was nice of her.” He was thinking that she was probably avoiding him.

“You’re in love with her.”

It was a flat statement, not a question, and Spike sighed. “Is this the talk where you tell me ‘m not good enough for her? ‘Cause if it is, I already know that.”

“I’m not going to say that,” she said. “What I will say is that Buffy deserves someone who can be with her in all areas. You can’t walk in the sunlight with her, Spike. You can’t give her a normal life.”

“The Slayer isn’t a normal girl.” Spike hated himself for saying it, but he wanted to be straight with Joyce. She had been nothing but kind to him, and he felt he owed her the truth at least. “She’s never gonna have a normal life. Slayers don’t get to retire. They don’t get married and have 2.5 kids with a picket fence. If I thought that’s what would make her happy, I’d leave town tomorrow.”

His gaze was intense, his blue eyes blazing in the dim lighting. “That’s all I want—to keep her safe an’ make her happy. I think I can do both.”

Joyce could see why her daughter would be so attracted to this vampire. Spike could make you believe every word he was saying was the gospel truth, and she believed him. Joyce thought that Spike might be exactly what the doctor ordered for her girl, as much as it pained her to admit it.

It hurt to give up dreams of normalcy—of church weddings and grandchildren. It hurt to know what she’d already suspected—that Buffy would most likely not live long enough to do any of that anyway.

Maybe, Joyce thought, Buffy’s destiny was always going to involve a vampire.

She sighed, but said with a smile, “I believe you, Spike. I’m making you responsible for my daughter’s safety.”

Spike relaxed slightly. It felt better than he would have liked to admit to have Joyce give her blessing, even if it was with reservations. “’m sorry,” he said suddenly. “’m sorry it had to be this way.”

It was kind of him to say, and she responded by kissing his cheek in a maternal gesture.


	18. Cloudy with a Chance of Rain

Spike entered the hospital waiting room as casually as possible. He and Buffy had spoken in passing before he left the Summers’ residence for his own crypt. Things had been awkward between the two of them, neither of them certain of where their relationship was headed or what the next step might be. The Slayer had mentioned going to the hospital with Joyce when Spike asked what she was doing the next day, but she hadn’t asked him to come.

He hadn’t offered, either.

Thinking about it later, Spike had realized that it might be a good idea to join Buffy. She could probably use some company, and he didn’t know whether anyone else would be there. Besides, if they were going to do this relationship thing, Spike knew he ought to at least attempt to get along with her friends and family.

It was for that reason alone that he had dispensed with the usual black on black ensemble. He would be changing as soon as he got back to his crypt, of course, but to show respect for Joyce, Spike thought he might try dressing up a bit. She’d been remarkably kind to him, and he wanted to demonstrate his appreciation in some way.

If that meant looking more like a “normal” boyfriend, he’d do it. Occasionally.

Buffy was the first to spot him. She came over to his side immediately. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Spike blinked, trying to figure out if he’d done something wrong by showing up. “Thought I’d keep you company,” he replied uncomfortably. “Where’s your mum?”

“They just took her back,” Buffy replied, making a face. “Of course, she was scheduled to start the tests two hours ago.” She glanced around and then dragged him away, and Spike could see Giles, Willow and Tara off to the side. “I don’t believe you came.”

“You don’t want me here?” Spike asked.

“No,” Buffy replied. “It’s just—” Frowning, she finally noticed that he wasn’t dressed in his usual black jeans and black t-shirt. Instead, he was wearing dark gray pants and a dark blue shirt. “What are you wearing?”

Spike scowled. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

There was nothing wrong with it. Quite the opposite, in fact, and Buffy decided she did not want to jeopardize the chance that Spike might dress more up-scale in the future. “No, it’s just—I’ve never seen you in anything like that before.”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, you know, since I thought I’d visit your mum…”

Spike wasn’t prepared for Buffy’s reaction. She launched herself at him, shoving him back up against the wall, her lips locking to his, and her tongue coming out to play. After a split second, he got over his surprise and began to respond. Buffy finally pulled back to breathe, and Spike just stared at her. “Luv?”

“You are so sweet,” Buffy exclaimed. It meant even more coming from Spike, since getting him out of his black jeans was something along the lines of a miracle. That he would willingly dress a little differently for her mom’s sake—well, that said something.

For a moment, Spike contemplated arguing about being called “sweet,” since that was definitely not an adjective he wanted applied to the Big Bad. On the other hand, as Buffy started kissing him again, it might not be such a bad thing after all.

“I can stay as long as you like, Buffy,” Spike said quietly.

She smiled at him. “Good. It’s going to be a while before Mom’s done. If you could stick around…”

“That’s why I’m here.”

Buffy took a deep breath, realizing that this relationship thing might work after all. Spike was willing to give a little. It boded well for things to come. Sure, she had to make some changes as well, but they might actually meet in the middle.

“I’m glad.”

~~~~~

It wouldn’t have taken a genius to know what was going on. Giles recognized the signs immediately. Spike was dressing differently and showing up in unusual places. Buffy was standing close by him, almost touching, the knuckles of their hands just brushing together.

Of course, the signs were subtle enough that the Watcher might have missed them—had he not already harbored suspicions. Willow and Tara’s quiet snickers and knowing looks only served to confirm his thoughts. Giles rather thought that Willow might have witnessed something more obvious, because she had been rather smug all day, much like when she and Buffy had been sharing secrets back in high school.

Giles decided just to be grateful that his Slayer wasn’t indulging in public displays of affection, since there was no corresponding blindness to protect him.

“I wanted to talk with you, Spike,” Giles said.

The vampire’s expression turned from slightly uncomfortable to suspicious. “Why?”

“It’s about Drusilla and her visions,” Giles replied. “Not to mention what happened with the lawyers. I’d like to know what they offered you in return for your cooperation.”

Spike shrugged. “We didn’t get that far. They made threats, I told them to shove off, an’ then they made more threats. An’ then they left me in a sunny room. Not the best day I’ve ever spent.”

“I dare say not.” While Giles didn’t particularly want to, he could put himself into Spike’s shoes and at least comprehend the discomfort. “I think I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Would you like something, Buffy?”

She hesitated, knowing exactly what Giles was planning and not being too keen on the idea of her Watcher cornering Spike. “I wouldn’t mind a soda, but I can get it.”

Giles ignored her, looking at Tara and Willow. “Would either of you care for anything?”

“A soda would be great,” Willow replied brightly, even as Tara murmured a shy affirmative.

The Watcher looked over at Spike. “Spike? Would you mind helping me?”

Spike actually minded a great deal. On the other hand, this seemed to be one of those things that would be required of him if he wanted to be with Buffy. As much as he wouldn’t mind just getting the Slayer, she came with friends and family.

It had always been one of her most irritating qualities.

“Yeah, why not?” he muttered in reply, following Giles through the hospital corridors towards the cafeteria. Once they were far enough away from the girls, Spike asked, “So you goin’ to give me the speech ‘bout how I’m not good enough for her? Joyce already tried it, an’ I’ll give you the same answer I gave her.”

“Did I say that?” Giles asked. “What happens when the chip stops functioning?”

Spike cocked his head. “What?”

“What happens when the chip stops functioning?” Giles repeated. “You’re not stupid, Spike. You must have thought about it.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Spike replied slowly. “Why are you askin’?”

“Because I want to know what we can expect you to do should the chip cease to function,” the Watcher replied. “If we were to have another Angelus on our hands, I would much prefer to know so that I can make preparations.”

“You mean so you can stake me in my sleep,” Spike replied sarcastically, knowing exactly where this was going.

Giles smiled coldly, sensing that they understood one another quite well. “Buffy seems to be growing fond of you, for some unfathomable reason. If we need to take you out, I’d rather do it before she’s head over heels.”

“She may never get there,” Spike pointed out. “She hasn’t said anythin’ about a relationship. All she’s done was rescue me from a bunch of lawyers, an’ she might have done that for anybody.”

“Perhaps,” Giles allowed. “But the fact remains that she did it for you. So what happens when the chip comes out?”

Spike suddenly found himself pressed up against the wall, and unable to fight back without giving himself a migraine. The man would have his question answered, and he knew when it was time to give in. “Nothin’ happens, Watcher.”

“What do you mean by nothing?”

Spike looked away, unwilling to let his discomfort show. “If what you’re askin’ is if ‘m goin’ to pull an Angelus, you needn’t worry. I don’t want to hurt Buffy. I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“What about the rest of us?” Giles insisted.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you listenin’, old man? I said I wouldn’t hurt her, an’ she likes the rest of you. That means you’re safe too.” He glared. “Before you ask, I’d say the same goes for the rest of the population. If I starting munchin’ on the populace, Buffy’d have to stake me, an’ I’m not interested in a dusty endin’.”

Giles was inclined to believe him. If there was anything he’d learned about the vampire, it was that Spike was often ruled by his emotions, his passions. If Spike truly did love Buffy, Giles had no doubt that Spike would remain true to his word.

The question, of course, was whether or not Spike really did love her.

“Vampires aren’t supposed to fall in love with humans,” Giles pointed out.

Spike grimaced. “Yeah, well, I’ve never been normal. Can we leave it at that?”

“No,” Giles said simply. “But we can leave it there for now. Just know, that if you hurt her—”

“You’ll stake me,” Spike said. “I know.”

Giles shook his head. “No, staking would be too quick. I’ll make sure you beg for death before it’s all over.”

Spike looked over at him with new respect. From the expression on the Watcher’s face, he was inclined to believe Giles meant it, and that he would carry out his threat. “Fair enough.”

~~~~~

“So, spill,” Cordelia said after the guys had finally gone home. Angel had moved out the night before, and Wesley had dropped Drusilla off the next morning. Cordy wished she’d had a little more time in between guests, but she also wanted details. There was no way that Dru had spent a couple of days in a hotel room with Wesley without something going on.

Drusilla gave her an arch look. “Spill what?”

“Details!” Cordelia exclaimed. “I know something happened between you and Wes. So? Has he improved as a kisser?”

The light in Drusilla’s eyes turned dreamy, but not from one of her visions. “Mmm.”

Cordelia glared. “Share!”

“It’s not just kissing that he excels at,” Drusilla finally replied.

Cordy’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding! You and Wes? I never thought he’d get laid. And he was good?”

“Better than good.” The other woman was obviously going off into a happy place. “He was so—right.” In an abrupt change of subject, Drusilla asked, “What does one wear to the beach?”

Cordelia was still trying to process the fact that Wesley was actually good in bed. “Better than good?” she muttered. “Why couldn’t he have shown a little skill when we kissed?”

“You kissed?” Dru asked in surprise. “Are you—”

Cordy waved her hand dismissively. “It was a really long time ago. Ancient history, actually. It’s just—he slobbered on my chin. I don’t get it. When did he practice?”

“Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be?” Drusilla suggested. “Your future may lie with someone else.”

Cordelia frowned. “Someone else?” She looked at Dru sharply. “Do you know anything I don’t?”

“No,” Drusilla hastened to assure her. “I haven’t gotten any visions concerning you.”

Cordy heaved a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I mean, in some ways it would be nice to know my future, but in other ways, it might be kind of weird. Who knows what’s going to change between now and whenever?” She finally caught up to Drusilla’s question. “Why do you need a swimming suit?”

Dru shrugged. “Wesley said he’d take me to the beach.”

“Wesley?” Cordelia was trying to picture Wesley in swim trunks, and was having a very difficult time of it. “Really? He said he’d take you?” She shook her head wonderingly. “You know, I think you might be really good for him. I think we should get you something that’ll curl his toes.”

Drusilla smiled a purely feminine smile. “That would be perfect.”

“We’ll have to go shopping later today, then,” Cordelia decided. “It’ll be fun.”

She might have said something else, but her words were cut off by a short shriek as she clutched her head. “Cordelia?”

Cordy shook her head. “I see—a demon. A big one.” Once the vision had passed, she could talk more normally. “You have to call Angel. We’ve got to stop this thing.”

Dru nodded. “I’ll take care of it. You just lie back now.” Once she’d turned away towards the phone, she grimaced in pain. She was disturbed by the flashes she’d seen of Cordelia being sick—dying, in fact. Killed by her own visions. It wasn’t something she had the cure for, but Drusilla wanted to do something.

She needed to do something.

~~~~~

The summer months were a time of productivity for Xander. He was making twice as much money working construction as he had at his last minimum wage job. Plus, there was overtime, which put him into the happy camper range.

Xander figured the only real drawback to working such long hours was that he rarely got to see his friends. Not that they didn’t spend the odd day together here and there, but he felt much more out of the loop than usual. Witness the recent trek up to L.A. to get Spike back. Not that Xander cared about the bleached non-menace, but he might have liked to go along. Instead, he had to work.

Now, with Joyce in the hospital, Xander wouldn’t have minded spending the day there with Buffy and lending his support. Mrs. Summers wasn’t immediate family, however, and that meant he hadn’t a chance at getting the day off.

Xander was stunned to see Spike as he entered the hospital waiting room, with Anya at his side. Not only was the vampire seated next to Buffy, the Slayer actually seemed to be enjoying his company. Even Giles and Willow, whom Xander would have places squarely into the anti-Spike camp, looked perfectly comfortable with his presence.

“What’s he doing here?” Xander demanded.

The others looked at him in surprise. Well, everyone except for Spike, who had a smirk on his face now that he was fairly certain of his welcome. “What are you talking about, Xander?” Buffy asked with barely concealed impatience.

“Spike.” Xander’s tone was flat. “What’s he doing here, Buffy?”

Buffy gave him a hard look and then leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know, Xander. Why don’t you ask Spike? He’s sitting right there.”

Spike glanced over at her, amused, and then looked at Xander, eyebrow cocked. “Well, Harris?”

If at first you don’t succeed, ignore the irritant. “What is this? You rescued Spike, Drusilla isn’t in danger. Isn’t he supposed to be back in his crypt?” Looking directly at the vampire, Xander clearly enunciated. “We don’t want you here.”

“Who said you could speak for me?” Buffy asked.

Xander blinked. “What—”

Anya put her hand on her boyfriend’s arm. “Xander, let it go.”

“No!” Xander retorted, staring at first Anya then Buffy. “What is it with you and vampires, Buff? I used to think it was just Angel, but apparently you really do like your men undead.”

Before either Buffy or Spike could retort to that rather inflammatory comment, Anya gave Xander a smack on the arm. “What about me?” she demanded.

“Wha—Anya! This isn’t about you!”

“Isn’t it?” Anya gave him a very dirty look. “Every time Buffy gets a new boyfriend, you get upset. Only a stupid person would think you didn’t have some kind of sexual attraction to her.”

Xander took the piece of her statement that he felt he could respond to. “Spike isn’t Buffy’s boyfriend.”

“Yes, he is.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the waiting room after Buffy’s quiet affirmation. Even Spike was knocked speechless, which was really quite a feat. “Buffy—”

“Don’t,” Buffy said quietly. “I’m not going to change my mind just because you disagree.”

A full blown argument might have erupted right there in the waiting room, but the doctor came out and interrupted. “Miss Summers?”

“Yeah?” Buffy said, standing, Spike close behind her. “Is Mom—”

The doctor pulled her away slightly, even though Spike still acted as the Slayer’s shadow. “We’ve found a tumor. They’re taking Mrs. Summers back now in order to do a biopsy. Once we have the results from that, we should know more.”

Buffy took a deep breath, feeling Spike’s arm come around her shoulders. She leaned into him slightly. “When will you know?”

“In a few hours,” the doctor replied in a sympathetic tone. “If you want to go home—”

“I’ll wait,” Buffy replied stubbornly. The voices of her friends behind her seemed muted, and only Spike’s strong arm anchored her. “Spike—”

“Not goin’ anywhere,” he assured her, and felt Buffy lean into him. He had no plans to go anywhere at all.


	19. You Are My Sunshine

“You’re hurt,” Drusilla said as soon as Angel and Wesley walked through the door. Angel, naturally, assumed she was talking to him since he had a nice gash across one cheek. Drusilla, however, headed straight for Wesley, who was limping slightly.

Angel was a little put-out. He’d gotten his cut while fighting, while Wesley had tripped and twisted his ankle. “I’m alright,” Wesley insisted, sounding both pleased and embarrassed to have her fussing over him.

“Let me look at it,” Drusilla suggested, tugging Wesley over to the couch.

Angel grimaced. Having a vampire’s sense of smell had never been so inconvenient. Knowing that Wesley and Drusilla were a couple was bad enough without having the evidence right in front of his nose, so to speak. “Aren’t they cute together?” Cordelia asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He glowered. “Very cute.”

“Say it like you mean it, Angel,” Cordelia chided. “Come on. You’ve got to admit that Drusilla’s really good for Wesley. And vice versa.”

Angel watched as Dru gently checked out the ex-Watcher’s injuries, while he interrupted her task with a gentle touch to her cheek. It was apparent that they thought themselves the only ones in the room. Cordelia was obviously right, but that didn’t mean Angel had to like it. “I guess.”

Cordy rolled her eyes at his stubbornness. “Geez, Angel, grow up. There are plenty of other fish in the sea.”

“Not for me,” Angel said quietly.

Cordelia tugged him away, towards her small kitchen, in order to give the two lovebirds some privacy. “How did it go tonight?”

“Fine,” Angel replied. “Although, next time we have to deal with something that size, I’m going to call Gunn.”

“Who?” Cordelia asked, frowning.

“Gunn,” Angel repeated, realizing belatedly that he hadn’t really told her about the gang leader. “Charles Gunn. He’s the one who was in charge of that gang of kids.”

“Oh,” Cordelia replied. “It probably isn’t a bad idea to have a little more muscle on hand.”

“You know,” Angel began in a tone that told Cordelia to be wary. “I may have to ask you to have Drusilla stay here for a while longer than we thought. Not that there isn’t the money, but I’d feel better if she had a little more transition time.”

Cordelia sighed, but she didn’t argue. Drusilla wouldn’t be so bad to have around. She was really nice, she understood about the visions, and she seemed to be getting along with Dennis, all points in her favor. Besides, it wasn’t like Wesley didn’t have his own place, so they wouldn’t be making out—or doing other things—on her couch all the time.

Cordelia peeked around the corner. Or maybe not. “Maybe we should get back out there,” she suggested. “Because if they keep going, I’m going to have to have that couch cleaned.”

~~~~~

The front door squeaked a bit as Buffy entered, looking back over her shoulder at Spike. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” he replied. “You should probably eat somethin’ too, luv.”

She shrugged. “I’m not that hungry.”

“Buffy—”

“Really, Spike. I’m not.” She frowned. “You don’t think I should have stayed with Mom tonight, do you?”

“They were goin’ to kick you out, pet,” Spike reminded her gently. The doctor had made the decision to keep Joyce in the hospital overnight for observation. Since the biopsy had occurred later in the day, they wanted to be certain she didn’t have an adverse reaction to the anesthesia.

Buffy had wanted to stay, but Giles had strongly suggested she get some rest. Spike, taking his cue from the Watcher, had insisted on seeing her home. The Slayer was still feeling a little dazed by it all. The biopsy results wouldn’t be in for a while, and until then they wouldn’t have any idea of what would need to happen next.

She attempted a smile. “Yeah, I could see the nurse giving us the evil eye.” There was a long pause. “Would you stay tonight?”

Spike blinked in surprise. “I don’t—”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

There was only one response that Spike could make to that, of course. “Then I’ll stay. You sure you don’t want Willow, though?”

Buffy stared at him. “You don’t want to stay?”

“No!” he replied quickly. “I just—I want you to be sure, luv. I want you to know, you’re not getting rid of me, Buffy. We do this, you ask me to stay, and I won’t be leavin’.”

She stared at him, recognizing the warning for what it was. “And if the chip stops working?”

“We’ll work somethin’ out,” Spike replied. “Told your Watcher today, I won’t hurt you, Slayer. Whatever comes.”

Buffy understood the faith that was required to believe him. Her concerns, stemming from the last vampire she’d dated, were valid, of that she had no doubt. Spike had been one scary guy before he’d been chipped. Even though they had never managed to kill each other—and even though Spike had teamed up with her to stop Angelus—he’d been a formidable opponent.

“I know.” Her voice was steady when she did speak. A new strength coursed through her, replacing the fatigue that sitting in the hospital waiting room had brought. It was a strength borne of desire, of hope, of a deep sense of peace. She had seen Spike with Drusilla, knew how he could be with someone he loved—even human.

She knew, somehow, that he loved her.

Spike took a step in her direction. “Ready to take this to the next level then?” he asked, a challenge in his tone. “I could sleep in the basement.”

“That would entirely defeat the purpose of having an empty house,” Buffy pointed out logically. “Might as well take advantage of every opportunity.”

“Not a bad idea,” Spike agreed, his voice becoming husky with desire. “Never know when it’ll happen again.”

Buffy smiled, taking a step closer. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You really are going to have to do something about your crypt. At least get a bed.”

“Only for you, luv,” Spike said in reply, close enough now so that their lips met in a frenzy of desire.

Buffy needed to feel—to feel someone’s arms, someone’s lips and tongue. To know that she wasn’t alone, and that her mother’s illness would not completely shatter the foundations of her world. That Spike, at least, would stay constant—her north star.

Spike simply wanted her. He’d dreamed of this moment, though never of the emotion that lay behind it. He loved her, as crazy as it might sound. Somewhere along the way, Spike had fallen for the Slayer. It was bleedin’ pathetic, was what it was.

At the moment, he didn’t care.

The kiss was rapidly heading into previously unexplored territory as Spike allowed his hands to wander freely. Buffy’s own hands were just as courageous, beginning to blaze a trail down the front of his shirt, leaving buttons undone in their wake.

His shirt was half off before Spike managed to suggest that it might be better to go upstairs. “Not that there’s anyone here to see us, but a bed might be nice,” he muttered against her lips.

“Bed,” Buffy echoed, nearly incoherent. She didn’t remember anything feeling this good in the past. “Upstairs then.”

They managed to stumble their way up the stairs, neither one of them willing to lose contact. Once inside Buffy’s door, however, things slowed down a bit. “There’s no goin’ back,” Spike warned her. “This isn’t a one night stand, Buffy.”

“I don’t do one night stands,” she replied evenly.

And then there was no more waiting.

~~~~~

Buffy lay in a boneless, satiated heap on top of Spike, who was also sprawled out. She couldn’t ever remember being this relaxed or contented, not for a long time. They were supposed to be heading out to pick her mother up at the hospital soon, but neither one of them cared to move.

“I love you.”

The quiet words sent a thrill through Buffy. She’d suspected it, but hadn’t been certain. For all she’d known, Spike just wanted her.

Moving just enough to see his face, Buffy caught a flicker of fear in his eyes. “I know you do, Spike.”

Understanding lightened his expression as Spike realized that even though Buffy couldn’t say the words, she would accept them from him. He didn’t mind waiting, as long as she wanted him there. “Buffy—”

He was interrupted by an impatient knocking on the door. “Buffy! We have to leave in thirty minutes to get Mom!”

Spike frowned, at first not recognizing the voice. Buffy had no such problem, however. “Just give me a minute! I’ll be right there!”

“If we’re late, I’m going to tell Mom you were jumping Spike’s bones all night and kept me awake!”

Spike frowned as Dru’s words echoed in his memory. _The second thing is the Slayer’s sister… she’s the Key to the whole thing. You have to protect her, Spike, just like you protected Mummy._

“I’m going to kill Dawn,” Buffy groused as she pulled herself up. “We don’t have to leave for at least an hour. She knows that! She just hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, luv,” Spike replied, amusement displacing confusion. He’d have to discuss Drusilla’s warning with the Slayer later, but they had more important things to take care of at the moment. “She’s just bein’ a pest. It’s in the job description.”

“I’m still going to kill her,” Buffy mumbled, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “She ruined my afterglow.”

~~~~~

Having Drusilla around was turning out to be something of an interesting experiment. Cordelia had never before shared an apartment on what could be a long term basis, but she thought it might work out with the other woman.

Provided, of course, that Wesley wasn’t underfoot _all_ the time.

With Drusilla there, the ex-Watcher always seemed to have a good reason to be there as well. Cordy was going to have to discuss the benefits of going _out_ on dates, rather than staying in before she strangled him and broke Drusilla’s heart.

Not that she didn’t like seeing either of them happy, but Wesley in particular was just so—sappy about the whole thing. It was obvious that he was in love, but more than that. He was infatuated. He basically worshipped the ground that Drusilla walked on.

It actually was bringing back memories of high school, when Cordelia had men at her beck and call at all times. While Cordy wouldn’t have gone back for all the money in the world, she missed that part of it. She hadn’t had a date in—forever.

Not since Doyle had saved her life, at least.

Trying to explain the head-splitting visions to a guy was pretty much out of the question, though. The only men Cordelia thought might understand were Wesley and Angel. Wes was obviously taken, and Angel—

It was only in the depths of her heart that Cordelia could acknowledge the growing affection for the vampire. It wasn’t love, but—there was something.

Something she wasn’t ready to even consider as of yet.

Today, however, it was going to be just Cordy and Dru, going shopping. The paperwork for the trust had come through, and Cordelia—who had just barely learned about things like budgets and rent-paying—found herself in the position of teacher.

Cordelia was more than a little suspicious about Wolfram &amp; Hart’s ready acquiescence to Angel’s demands. It smacked of them having something else up their devious little sleeves. She had also learned never to look a gift horse in the mouth. Lindsay and the rest of them might not be done with Angel yet, but then again, they probably never would be.

Cordelia hadn’t had the chance to look for a new bikini in ages—of course, she hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to go to the beach, either. So shopping promised to be fun and exciting, even if looking for swimming suits was about the hardest thing ever on a woman’s self esteem.

“Try this,” Cordy suggested, handing a deep purple two-piece to Drusilla.

The other woman eyed it doubtfully. “Are you sure? It seems a little—”

“Revealing?” Cordy asked. “Trust me, this is nothing. Besides, something like this is guaranteed to render Wes speechless.”

Drusilla nodded and then handed her own choice to Cordelia. “I think you ought to try this one on.”

Cordelia hesitated, having seen the price tag. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that it’s me.”

It was definitely her. Drusilla was getting the hang of the fashion thing, and Cordy thought Dru might actually rival her someday. “My treat,” Drusilla insisted. “You’ve been so kind, it’s the least I can do.”

Her hesitation only lasted a moment more. “Okay,” she decided. “I’ll give it a try.” Cordelia looked over at Dru. It had been ages since she’d had a girlfriend to do these kinds of things with. After her parents had lost everything to the IRS, most of her Sunnydale friends had deserted her. Or rather, she had distanced herself, having no desire for anyone to find out what had happened. Now, however, Cordelia knew she had a shot at a real friendship with another woman.

It felt good.

“We should go to the beach sometime,” Cordelia said impulsively. “Just us girls.”

Drusilla smiled slowly. “I think I should like that very much.”

~~~~~

Willow could barely hold her tongue on the way to the hospital. She’d offered to accompany the Summers girls to pick up Joyce from the hospital, having the dual motives of wanting to assure herself that Mrs. Summers was okay and to pump Buffy for information about Spike.

She’d noticed Spike’s change of dress, and had her own theories on why the vampire would have done it. Once Buffy had picked her up, and Willow saw the post-coital glow, she had her confirmation.

Not that she wanted details, but Willow was a sucker for gossip, especially of the boy variety.

To curb her enthusiasm, the redhead willingly chatted with Dawn about the newest Harry Potter book and let Buffy concentrate on driving. The Slayer still wasn’t that great at it, but at least Willow no longer felt as though she was taking her life in her hands when Buffy climbed behind the wheel.

Once they’d reached the hospital, however, and Dawn ran ahead, Willow looked over at her friend. “So? How was it?”

“How was what?” Buffy asked innocently.

Willow mustered her resolve face. “Don’t give me that, missy. You have satisfaction face. You got satisfied last night.”

A bright red flush began creeping up Buffy’s face. “There might have been some…satisfaction.”

“And?” Willow insisted. “On a scale from one to ten?”

Buffy got a dreamy look. “Off the charts.”

Willow’s eyes widened. “Really? That good?”

“Oh yeah,” Buffy murmured. She grimaced. “Although, Dawn was threatening to tell Mom we kept her up all night. If she says anything at all…”

“I’ll distract her,” Willow said loyally. “But there’s definitely a you-and-Spike now?”

Buffy smiled. “Yeah. Pretty crazy, huh?”

“No crazier than there being a me and Tara.”

~~~~~

Spike was in the kitchen heating up the last of the blood when he heard them come home. Dawn was telling her mom about everything they could do while Joyce was recovering, and Buffy was reminding her sister that their mom should be resting and Dawn shouldn’t bother her.

Chuckling as he listened to the fight get started, Spike decided to drink his meal before going out there. He hadn’t expected Willow to join him in the kitchen. “Hey, Spike.”

“Red,” Spike said evenly. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the girl, even though she’d been in on the rescue attempt. “How’re things?”

“Good,” Willow replied. “I hear you and Buffy are good too.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “How would you know anythin’ ‘bout that?”

“Please, Spike,” Willow replied. “Buffy and I have been friends for years. I know when she’s had a good night.”

If vampires could blush, Spike certainly would have. “Yeah, well…”

“Spike—” Her unusually serious tone cause him to meet Willow’s eyes. “Buffy’s really happy with you for whatever reason. Don’t make me regret supporting her decision.”

Spike was slightly taken aback, recognizing her tacit offer of support. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Willow replied, cheerful once more. “I’d hate to have to dust you. You kinda grow on a girl.”

Spike couldn’t keep from laughing.


	20. The Key to Everything

  
“I thought it might be best to take Angel’s car today,” Wesley said. “We’ll have to take the motorcycle some other time. You’ll love riding along the coast,” he promised, already planning their next outing.

Drusilla merely smiled, her sarong parting slightly to reveal one shapely leg as she got into the car. The slight choking sound from Wesley’s direction told her that she’d chosen her outfit exceedingly well. The purple batik sarong was a perfect complement to the tank top she wore, which served as a cover up for her bathing suit. She was cool, comfortable, and enticing.

And Dru knew it.

Wesley climbed into the driver’s seat, giving her an inquisitive look. “Do you know how to drive?”

“No, I never learned,” Drusilla replied. “Why?”

“Would you like to learn?” he asked. “I could teach you.”

Drusilla smiled. “I would like. That would be nice.” She realized that Wesley had asked because he wanted to be sure that she was as self-sufficient as possible. He wanted her to feel confident, to be able to be self-proficient—as much as he wanted to take care of her. It was one of the qualities that Drusilla liked best about him.

“Good.” Wesley smiled, putting the car into gear. “We’ll have to go out soon.”

The ride in the convertible, with the top down, felt like freedom to Drusilla. The sun on her face, the wind sending her hair flying in all directions—she had never in her life felt anything so wonderful. She had her eyes closed against the wind, but a smile curved her lips as Wesley’s hand snuck across the seat to clasp hers.

“I miss not having you around all the time,” he confessed.

Dru’s eyes opened slowly, and she turned her head. “It makes the time we are together all the better,” she pointed out.

Wesley matched her smile with one of his own. “It does that.”

~~~~~

“This is _so_ not fair,” Dawn said, her voice perilously close to a whine. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Buffy frowned at her younger sister. “This isn’t just about you, Dawnie. I want to be sure Mom is okay too. What if she gets sick? Do you really want to be in charge if something like that happens?”

Dawn chewed her lower lip, obviously torn. “No,” she finally answered, sounding slightly sullen. “You’ll bring Spike back with you tonight?”

“If he wants to come,” Buffy replied. “He might have other things to do,” she pointed out. “And I doubt he really wants to be hanging out with you.”

Dawn’s lower lip trembled. “Spike likes me,” she shot back. “He understands me!” With that, Dawn whirled and ran up the stairs, her footsteps thumping. Buffy sighed, rubbing her eyes.

“Buffy? What was that about?” Joyce asked, entering the kitchen from the living room. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Buffy replied. She thought it odd that her little sister would echo her own words about Spike, the argument she had given her mom for embarking on a relationship with the vampire. “Dawn’s just being—Dawn. I’m supposed to go meet Giles. Willow should be here shortly to watch out for you guys.”

“Buffy, I’m going to be fine,” Joyce said gently. “The doctor said we caught it early enough, and with the radiation treatments, I won’t even need surgery.”

“I know,” Buffy replied. “It’s just—” She fell silent, unsure of how to express her fears. If Drusilla hadn’t said something to Spike, if Spike hadn’t gotten her mom to take his warnings seriously—who knows when they would have caught the tumor? It might have been too late.

“Why don’t you bring Spike over tonight, Buffy,” Joyce suggested. “I wouldn’t mind seeing him.”

Buffy laughed shortly. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“Other than the fact that he’s a vampire?” Joyce asked. “Yes, I do. I always have.”

“Why?” Buffy asked. “You liked him before I did. I just—I don’t get it.”

Joyce frowned. “I don’t really know. I suppose it has something to do with seeing his potential. There’s always been more to Spike than meets the eye, right from the beginning.”

Buffy sighed, shaking her head, deciding that she was never going to understand. “I’ll ask. I think he said he’d be at Giles’ today, so I’ll see him there.”

Buffy was thinking hard on her way over to Giles’ apartment. Spike had reminded her the previous day of Drusilla’s words, about Dawn being a key, whatever that meant. They were both supposed to meet at her Watcher’s flat to discuss what the ex-vampire might have meant, and what they were going to do about it.

The last thing Buffy wanted to consider was that there might be something wrong with her sister like there was with her mom. As annoying as Dawn could be, she was still her sister.

Spike was already there, talking to Giles when she arrived. In an odd gesture, he stood as Buffy came into the room. “Hey, luv.”

If Giles noticed the casual endearment, he chose to give no sign of it. “Ah, Buffy. There you are. How’s your mother?”

“Better,” Buffy replied. “She should be able to go back to work tomorrow. They want to start her on the radiation treatments right away, though.”

Giles frowned. “Yes, well, if you need any help, please let me know. I’ll be happy to do what I can. Is your father—”

“He’s in Spain,” Buffy said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “With his secretary. He hasn’t replied to any of the messages I left.”

“Said he was a wanker,” Spike muttered, more to himself than anything else. Both of the others were inclined to agree with him. “What are we gonna do about the Bit?”

Giles shook his head. “I’m not certain. You mentioned that Drusilla said she was the key to everything.”

“Drusilla told me Dawn was the key to the doors between the worlds,” Buffy said. “It’s just—I remember her telling me this the last time she was in Sunnydale, but why haven’t Spike and I remembered this until now? I mean, I could swear I forgot about it till just the other day.”

Spike shook his head. “Somethin’ doesn’t feel right about this whole deal. Don’t know what it is, but there’s something.”

“That’s hardly helpful, Spike,” Giles said, but his tone was less harsh than his words might have suggested. “I don’t know, Buffy. There are several things we might try, of course, but I don’t know exactly where to start.”

Buffy frowned. “Do you think we should tell any of the others? Not that there’s really anything to tell yet, but—”

Giles shook his head, and Spike mirrored his action. “They’d just be runnin’ their mouths around the Niblet,” Spike pointed out. “No sense in worryin’ her or your mum till we know more.”

The sense of unreality struck Buffy suddenly. Here she was, concocting a plan with her Watcher and a vampire she’d have sworn she hated until just a few weeks ago. A plan concerning her annoying little sister, and to the exclusion of her friends.

“I agree,” Giles said, for the moment deciding not to think about how strange that sounded. “I think we ought to continue looking for something that will help us clarify what Drusilla meant. Of course, we could always ask her to return to Sunnydale. Perhaps she would be able to tell us more now.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Buffy said. “But I really think we should exhaust our resources here first. I’m sure Drusilla has enough to do in L.A. right now.”

~~~~~

Drusilla was moaning in pleasure, the sound sending a bolt of heat to Wesley’s stomach. Well, a bit lower than his stomach, really. His strong hands were kneading the muscles in her back, rubbing the suntan lotion in thoroughly. It was the third time he’d applied the lotion, and the liquid was runny and warm from sitting in the sun all afternoon.

Wesley carefully worked his slick fingers under the tie of her bikini top and down around her sides, managing to cop a quick feel while he was at it. Drusilla’s quick gasp was reward enough for his actions. While the bathing suit covered everything that needed to be covered, her bare legs and toned stomach had been wreaking havoc on him all day.

He’d wanted to insist they go back to his place as soon as she’d removed her sarong and top. Wesley had promised her a sunset, however, and so they’d had a picnic lunch and gone swimming for a bit to cool off. The sun was just now beginning to descend from its zenith, and it would soon be time to find a vendor for a quick dinner along the Promenade.

“Are you hungry?” Wesley asked.

Drusilla smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “For what?”

“You are going to make it quite impossible for me to control myself,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Isn’t that the point?” Dru asked, mischievously. “You did promise me ice cream.”

He frowned. “Wouldn’t you rather have dinner first?”

“I think I’d rather have dessert.” Her eyes traveled down his bare chest. “Dinner can come later.”

He gave her a pleased smile. “Then let’s go get ice cream.” Wesley pulled on his t-shirt, watching as she put her skirt and top back on.

Drusilla spied him watching her and her lips curved again. It had been a truly magical day. She couldn’t ever remember being this happy, even before Angelus. Perhaps there had been moments this wonderful in her childhood, before the visions, when she and her sisters had spent the afternoons playing in the garden.

It was a day like this that made her think it possible to regain some of her lost innocence.

They walked together hand in hand, each of them with an ice cream in their free hand. The double scoops of strawberry and chocolate exploded in flavor and temperature on Drusilla’s tongue. Wesley licked at his own cone, trying to keep his eyes off of Drusilla and her obvious enjoyment.

He could think of other things she might be doing with her tongue.

They people-watched and spoke idly of unimportant things. Wesley found himself telling her about his time at the Watcher’s Academy and of his father. Her quiet acceptance made it easier to say things he’d never thought to tell anyone else.

“Your father sounds like a bully,” Drusilla observed. The sun was low on the horizon, but she was focused more on Wesley than watching it set.

Wesley was silent for a moment. “I suppose he was. I—I still wish I’d been able to make him proud.”

“Men like that are never satisfied,” Drusilla said gently. “Even if you had been perfect, he still would have found fault, because the deficit is his, not yours.”

Wesley looked out over the horizon, watching as the sky turned orange and red, setting the ocean on fire with color. “Will you ever be able to forgive Angel?” he asked, changing the subject.

Drusilla followed his gaze. Every sunset was different, and this one seemed more glorious than any other than she had ever seen. It was perfect. “Someday,” she replied. “I think I will someday.”

~~~~~

Angel frowned as he entered Cordelia’s apartment. “Where’s Dru?”

“She went out with Wesley,” Cordy replied, not looking up from her fashion magazine. “And I doubt we’ll see either of them until tomorrow.”

Angel slumped in one of her chairs. “I thought we were supposed to go take care of that nest tonight.”

Cordelia gave him an annoyed look. “You thought,” she pointed out. “Wes told you yesterday that he was planning on taking Dru to the beach. Weren’t you paying attention?”

He had been paying attention, actually, but Angel had believed that vampire-hunting would take priority. “I was listening,” he grumbled. “I just don’t see how dating is more important than fighting evil.”

“Maybe because dating makes Drusilla happy, and she deserves a little bit of happiness.” Cordy sighed. “Heck, we all deserve a little time once in a while. If Dru wants to have a day at the beach with a guy she likes, just so she can pretend to be normal for a while—I say more power to her.”

“What would make you happy, Cordy?” Angel asked suddenly.

Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? Other than not having mind-numbing visions and maybe seeing my acting career finally take off? I would love to go out to dinner at a really nice restaurant, get dressed up, and then have somebody else pay for it. That would definitely make me happy.”

“Then why don’t we?” Angel asked. At her surprised expression, the vampire continued more enthusiastically. “I don’t feel like going after a bunch of vampires tonight either, so why don’t we go have dinner somewhere. My treat.”

“Give me fifteen minutes,” Cordelia replied. “I’ll be ready.” She walked into her bedroom and shut the door behind her, leaning back against it.

It looked like she wasn’t going to be dateless tonight after all.

~~~~~

The research party had broken up when Xander appeared. Anya wasn’t with him this time, which made the Slayer wonder. Xander and Anya had been pretty much inseparable up until now. “What brings you around, Xander?” Buffy asked cautiously. He was one of her oldest friends, and the Slayer hated being on the outs with him.

On the other hand, Buffy was of the firm opinion that Xander _had_ to learn that she had the right to select her own boyfriends, without input from him. “Your mom said I could find you at Giles’,” Xander replied, giving Spike a dirty look. “She didn’t say _he_ would be here, though.”

“Xander, don’t,” Buffy said shortly. “I don’t care if you hate Spike, but it’s not going to change anything, okay?

Xander frowned, obviously not liking Buffy’s obstinacy. “Buffy—”

“Lay off, Harris,” Spike snarled. “Don’t care who you are, you’re not goin’ to hurt her feelings again. She’s got enough to deal with.”

When Xander looked like he was going to launch himself at the vampire, Giles stepped in between them. “That’s enough, Xander,” he commanded. “I’ve already discussed things with Spike, and we’ve reached an understanding. Buffy is old enough to make her own decisions, whatever anyone else might think of them.”

A harsh silence fell, and all three of the others gaped at Giles as they realized that he had chosen to indirectly support Buffy’s decision. The Watcher hadn’t planned on doing so, but over the course of the afternoon he had come to a better understanding of Spike’s willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect both Buffy and Dawn.

Giles was not keen to lose an ally, especially in the face of the unknown.

“Sorry, Buffy,” Xander finally muttered, not meeting the Slayer’s eyes.

Buffy nodded tightly. “It’s fine, Xander.” She looked over at Giles, gratitude in her eyes. “I should probably do a quick sweep before heading home.”

“Of course, Buffy,” Giles replied. “You should spend time with your mother.”

Buffy grabbed Spike’s hand and they left together, but not before Spike had given Giles a silent nod of thanks.

Giles turned to look at the now-silent young man. “You do realize that if you continue on this course you will alienate her completely.”

Xander scowled, then sighed. “It’s just—it’s Spike.”

“As irritating as he might be, Spike does have certain assets that could be quite valuable,” the Watcher said quietly. “I suggest you get used to the idea that he’s going to be around for a while.”

~~~~~

“We should really get back home,” Buffy said, sounding worried. “I don’t like leaving Mom for too long.”

Spike tugged on her hand. “Just a quick stop,” he promised. “Want to show you somethin’.”

Buffy decided she didn’t want to argue. “Spike—thanks.”

He turned to look at her in surprise. “For what?”

“For researching, for being here, I don’t know. For all of it.” Buffy never had been good with words. She merely knew that she felt a wordless gratitude that Spike was present. It defied explanation.

“”s my pleasure, luv,” Spike finally replied. “You know I’d do ‘bout anything’ for you.”

Buffy frowned. “I don’t get it, Spike. Why do you even like me?”

Spike shrugged. “Does there have to be a reason? Just do.” They had reached his crypt, and he pulled her towards the trapdoor that led to the lower level. “Down here.”

Feeling a trifle apprehensive, she followed. Although she really did trust him, Buffy wasn’t sure exactly what Spike had planned. Her mouth gaped open as she saw what he’d done. “Spike—”

“You like it then?”

The cavern was almost cozy, with the rug on the floor and the large bed. Nothing matched, and Buffy knew that what Spike hadn’t scavenged, he’d most certainly stolen, but the beauty of his gesture stole her breath away. He’d created a getaway for the two of them—a safe place. “It’s perfect,” Buffy said sincerely.

He shrugged, obviously embarrassed. “Still needs more work, but I thought it would do as a start. Don’t really want to have to worry ‘bout the Bit walkin’ in on us.”

“This really is great, Spike,” Buffy said, regret creeping into her tone. “I just wish we had time to take advantage of it right now. But—”

“Your mum is waiting, an’ so is the Bit,” Spike finished for her. “I get that, Buffy.”

Spike did get it, Buffy realized. Better than anyone else, this Slayer of Slayers understood that she wasn’t just a girl—nor was she just the Slayer. Spike understood the complexities of her life, knew that her life was destined to be short.

For some reason, it was Spike who understood that she had duties as a daughter and as a sister, and he was as prepared to help her deal with those obligations as he was to aid her in nightly patrols.

It made Buffy feel as though she didn’t have to shoulder her burden alone for the first time in a long while.

“Then let’s go home,” she replied. “And maybe once they’re asleep, we can sneak out and take that bed for a trial run.”

Spike’s wicked grin was all the answer Buffy needed.

**Epilogue**

“Gin!” Dawn said triumphantly. “You owe me big time, Spike.”

Spike glowered at his traitorous cards. “Bloody hell.” He tossed her a bag of M&amp;M’s. “I think you’re cheatin’.”

“If I am, it would only be because I’ve learned from the best,” Dawn replied with a smug grin. She glanced up. “Buffy? Aren’t you going to play?”

The Slayer shook her head. “Not right now, Dawnie. Besides, you should be in bed.”

Dawn made a face. “I’m not going to be able to sleep,” she objected. “I’m too wound up.”

“You should try,” Buffy said. “The time will go faster if you’re sleeping.”

The girl opened her mouth to argue some more, but Spike shook his head. “Off to bed now, Bit. Your sister’s right. One of you needs your sleep if you’re goin’ to keep me company on the drive back tomorrow.”

Dawn frowned. “You just don’t want to lose any more games,” she accused.

“’s possible,” Spike admitted cheerfully. “I never told you I’d play fair.”

To her credit, Dawn went to bed without further complaining while Spike came to join Buffy by the window. Sunrise was still a few hours away by his reckoning—sunrise and the promise of safety. “How much longer?” Buffy asked.

“Not long,” Spike promised. “Few hours at most. Sun comes up, an’ we’ll be safe, accordin’ to Dru. You doin’ alright?”

“I’m worried about Mom,” Buffy confessed. “If Glory finds them, I won’t be able to get there in time.”

“The witches are more than capable of takin’ care of your mum,” Spike reminded her. “An’ Rupert will look after the other two. Was better for us to split up.”

“I know,” Buffy replied. It had only made sense for the two of them to guard Dawn, while the others went their separate ways. When Drusilla’s warning about the day of reckoning came, there hadn’t been much discussion. The two strongest warriors would be needed to protect the Key, and they didn’t need to risk anyone else. Willow and Tara had gotten the job of looking after Joyce, who had fully recovered from her illness, the radiation treatments having been successful.

Spike, as usual, had been a godsend. Even Xander had come around after Glory went after the vampire, guessing correctly that the Slayer’s boyfriend would know where Buffy had stashed the Key. What the Hellbitch hadn’t realized was how stubborn Spike could be, especially when it concerned one of his girls.

Buffy glanced up into his still face as he looked out into the darkness. He had patrolled with her, he’d comforted her when they’d finally discovered the truth of what Dawn was. Spike had been her shadow, her lieutenant, the person she trusted above all others. By his tender mercies, Spike had proven himself beyond all her expectations.

“I love you.”

He seemed to go even more still at her side. “I beg your pardon?”

“I love you.” Her voice was stronger, more certain.

Spike turned to stare into her eyes. “Say it again,” he demanded.

“I love you, Spike.”

“I love you, too,” he finally managed, and then his lips descended on hers. He’d loved her, and he’d waited for her to say the words. Through it all, he had waited.

It seemed that patience was a virtue after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Vamp In The Box Challenge
> 
> Requirements:
> 
> Setting: An A/U AtS Season Two/BtVS Season Five, after "To Shanshu In L.A." and "Restless".  
> Pairing: Spike/Drusilla (temporary), Spike/Buffy
> 
> Basic Plot Elements:
> 
> When Wolfram &amp; Hart tries to resurrect Darla (AtS 1x22, "To Shanshu In L.A."), they discover that they have resurrected Drusilla instead. Still insane (although now having a human potential to recover from her mental trauma), scared and vulnerable, she flees L.A. for the one person she's sure will protect her -- Spike.
> 
> He notices her slightly-less-craziness and realizes that if he vamps her again, he'll do to her what Angelus did -- leave her trapped in insanity forever. So, he becomes determined to cure her, then vamp her... only, the more sane Drusilla becomes, the more she turns back into the pious, innocent girl she had been. See Spike wrestle with ethics! Wrestle, Spike, wrestle!
> 
> When Spike ultimately decides to give up his immortal beloved so that she can be happy as a human, it causes Buffy to finally see him in a different light.
> 
> Extras:
> 
> 1\. Still!Crazy!Dru being able to see that Dawn is the Key  
> 2\. Drusilla telling Buffy endearing things about Spike  
> 3\. Drusilla revealing that "Run and catch / Run and catch / The lamb is caught in the blackberry patch" has always referred to Spike, the sacrificial lamb (how much Dru reveals about Spike's death in "Chosen" is up to you) caught up in Buffy (the prickly, painful 'blackberry patch' that wounds him and he can't get away from).
> 
> Bonus Points For:
> 
> 1\. Drusilla foreseeing and managing to prevent Joyce's death  
> 2\. Cordelia giving Drusilla very Cordelia-style dealing-with-visions advice


End file.
